Silhouettes: The 84th Hunger Games
by CelticGames4
Summary: "It's hard... Letting go. I'm finally at peace, but it feels wrong." The Games have gone on, and now 24 young men and women will fight to survive in an Arena crafted by two of the brightest, most creative, but also most morbid people the Capitol has to offer. AU where Katniss was too old to volunteer and the Games go on as normal. T for Hunger Games. SYOT Closed.
1. Santana Villanueva, co-Head Gamemaker

_-Santana Villanueva, co-Head Gamemaker-_

I collapse into a seat of a small study cramped with books. It's the first I've sat down all day.

I put my head down on a table, savoring each second of quietness I can get.

"Er… Miss Villanueva…?" I hear a familiar voice in the doorway, one that I can stand to listen to. He owns this office and I'm sure he's wondering what I'm doing here when there's still piles and piles of work to be done. He's a friend of mine, but we keep formality in the workplace. I met him in university, he edited all my papers for me (and he's a very critical editor). "…Are you alright?" he asks, grabbing a book of Games History from 35-45 and sitting by me.

His eyes, naturally brown but now a soft pink, look at me and sparkle with concern.

"I'm fine."

"I'm speaking to you now as a friend. Santana. Are you really alright?"

I sigh. "I'm _fine_ , Ross. Just tired. Exhausted. I had to get away from all that noise and chaos. It reminds me so much of-"

"Eeeyyyy, there you are!" comes a loud voice from the doorway, that makes my head pound. I look up and see my co-Head Gamemaker standing there, flipping dark black hair out of bright blue eyes. "Been lookin' for ya!"

I groan. Looks like the sweet moments of silence have come to an end.

"How are things looking?" I ask, standing up and grabbing a clipboard. I like to keep thinks strictly professional when at work.

"Fine. Had about twenty people asking questions at a time. But what can you do?" he shrugs with a grin.

"Mr. Bundren, sir," my friend and associate starts, "Please try to be quiet. This is a room of study."

"Oh, Ross. You can call me Diesel!" This guy has no sense of professionalism at all. Sometimes I can't believe that he even got this job at all. "Now hurry, my dear Santana, we have an interview very soon and you look like a rat that just crawled out of the sewer!" He leaves, laughing loudly.

"Sorry for him," I sigh.

My associate and working Games theorist Ross McCafferty pats me on the shoulder, gently. "Just be patient. Surely President Snow will soon see that putting Diesel in charge was a horrible idea."

"He won't." I cross my arms. "You could see him behind that computer, Ross. He's very smart and a technology whiz. He has stage presence. He's loud and a bully and gets people to do what he says. He's creative. He served as a Peacekeeper. He's flirty and attractive, and everyone wants him to fuck them. He's everything a Head Gamemaker should be. It doesn't matter to Snow if he's an asshole." I twist a ring around my finger idly, without even noticing that I'm doing it.

"Well, you should go get ready for your interview," Ross says, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You can do this. You're Santana Villanueva, remember? You can do anything."

I nod a bit, trying to believe that he's right. I walk to my dressing room to prepare for my interview.

My tan skin is covered by concealer and my prep team puts huge fake eyelashes on me that have gems on them. My mostly bkac, red-streaked hair is pulled up into a long, wavy, silky ponytail, and black and red extensions are put in to make it fuller.

I continue to twist the ruby-diamond ring around my finger (it's become a bad habit) as I change into a red and black dress that shows my curves. A dark metal tiara with red gemstones is put on my head.

I hold tight to a small golden locket, a last memory, as color is put on my lips and my eyebrows are done. My prep team complains that the dull gold locket doesn't match the rest of the outfit, but I refuse to take it off no matter how they may try to force me. I'll fight them off if it comes down to it. I'm a fighter, always have been.

When I'm ready, I'm escorted back out to meet my co-Head Gamemaker as the interviewer, Blaine Buchanan, gets the crowd excited for the 84th annual Hunger Games.

Diesel Bundren takes my arm. "Now just smile and pretend you actually like me. Remember, Mommy and Daddy are watching." He grins at me.

"I hate you," I spit at him, scowling. He puts strong arm around my waist, securing me tight to his side.

"You're repulsive," I say, crossing my arms.

He laughs. "I love you too." He sighs, smiling dreamily (though mockingly). "Santana, my _dearest_ fiancé."

~.~.

It's a great thing when I'm able to crawl into bed after the big spectacle is over.

I'm able to sit in bed, in silence, in my own neat, organized place, silent, peaceful. My own place, though, is soon to be surrendered with a heavy heart to Diesel's disgusting mansion, all because my parents have wanted me to marry him since we were 11. I have no other choice.

I sit on my bed, and smoke a cigarette, on a phone call with Ross.

"Are you alright? For sure?" he asks.

"Yeah. Just… The chaos, all those people fighting past each other to ask me questions… It just reminded me so much of that day…" I open the locket, look into the dark navy eyes of a face that is just smiling because he has to.

I know how it is, really. My opinion doesn't matter. Reputation is all to my parents, after all. He escaped, though, left all of us and now he's in the ground, buried in a coffin, never to submit to our parents again. He never said a word to me about anything, I thought he was fine.

He obviously wasn't. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say.

A huge crowd gathered to see the spectacle of my brother ready to jump from the window. Press and interviewers tripped over themselves to find me and ask me ten thousand intrusive questions, all while I was trying to get to him, go up to his room (my parents said they were going, but I was a fool to believe them) to stop him.

Now, being a Head Gamemaker ( _co_ -Head Gamemaker, of course), it does nothing but bring that time back. I have my hologram of the Arena out on my lap, seeing every nook and cranny of my creation, trying to forget my thoughts.

Ross is still there on the other end of our call, and we sit in a familiar, comfortable silence.

It's just crazy to think that in less than a week, we meet our tributes for the first time. My stomach turns.

I turn off the lights, yawning.

 _I should really just try to sleep…_

.

 _ **A/N: Welcome, one and all to this open, full 24/24 SYOT! The rules and information to know is on my profile, so if you're interested in submitting please check that out! This is an AU where Katniss was one year too old to volunteer, so the Games went on as normal, no rebellion included.**_

 _ **No guests, please. I'd prefer for you to submit by PM only. Sorry about that.**_

 _ **Alright, so the rules are on my profile so I'm not going to put them all on here. Please, read them before you submit. The form is also on my profile.**_

 _ **Alright, so this sponsor system WILL tie in to the series of sponsor systems I have for 1, 41, and 36, so if you read Voices, Instinctive Travels, and/or ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH!, then you're already ahead in terms of points. If not, and you want to build up points, you can still go and check out those stories and get lots and lots of points!**_

 _ **So here's how the sponsoring will work, if you're not familiar with my sponsor stories:**_

 _ **A favorite for this story will be 4 points.**_

 _ **A follow for this story will get you 2 points.**_

 _ **Any review you leave on this story will get you 5 points immediately.**_

 _ **Also, every chapter, I'm going to ask a question. There are no right/wrong answers, I just really want to know what you think. Answer the question in your review and I'll give you 5 additional points.**_

 _ **A review on one of my others stories will be 5 points per story from now on. However, if you read/answer chapter questions for Voices, Instinctive Travels, or ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH! you can boost your score for this story.**_

 _ **Also, everyone that submits a tribute gets 10 points. Anyone that submits a mentor or escort gets 5 points per character submitted. If I get lots of them I may let people submit Head Stylists too, but we'll see.**_

 _ **So, our first chapter question! What do you think of the three Capitolites in this chapter (Santana, Ross, Diesel)? Which one was your favorite and why?**_

 _ **Here are the people that have points on the board already:**_

 _ **Kate: 193**_

 _ **Dreamer: 156**_

 _ **Jess: 251**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 60**_

 _ **Sinfonian Legend: 225**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 56**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 75**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **: 5**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **epictomguy: 34**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **That's all I have! Check my profile for the rules, tribute list, and the like! Thanks for reading!**_


	2. Diesel Bundren, co-Head Gamemaker

_-Diesel Bundren: co-Head Gamemaker-_

I sit alone in my room, cleaning out my box of memories from when I served as a Peacekeeper. All the letters exchanged with my sister, the few I got from Santana, and even the letter I got from Ike, her little brother. All the pictures Mary Catherine sent me of Viridian Turner's ass… I suppose now that I'm set to be married I should pitch them.

Not that I'm going to be a faithful husband, of course. I'm not letting this whole getting married to a prude shit put a leash on my sexuality. Not a chance in hell.

Suddenly, I get a video call coming in from my mother. Sighing quietly (dammit), I receive the call. Sharon's ugly-ass face appears on my computer screen. "Hello Brian," she says, her accent strong and thick.

"Brian's my middle name," I say matter-of-factly. "My name is Diesel, remember Sharon?"

"That's no way to talk to your mother! she says, scowling. "Your middle name is so much better anyways."

"'F ya didn't want a child with a goddamn bum name, ya shouldn'ta married a goddamn bum!" I inform her.

"For the last time, your father is _not_ a bum."

 _Try telling that to his drinking buddies._ "Then Diesel is not a bummy name!"

She sighs. "I'm sorry, it just sounds like you're from District 3 or 5 of god-forbid, 6. Disgusting."

"Guess what Sharon? I don't give a damn. So why are you calling me? I'm very busy." _Busy getting off to girls with big breasts and the thought of a whiny, moaning Viridian Turner, but still very very busy._

"I know you must be busy, but I am quite proud of my Head Gamemaker son, but please keep in mind that you also have a wedding in three weeks to prepare for. I assume you're dieting yourself?"

"Sure, sure." I really am tempted to just put the bitch on mute. This is all she wanted for me. If it were up to me, I would never be tied down, ever, especially not to the likes of a prude like Santana. She'll probably expect me to actually clean up after myself, sleep in the same bed as her, pull my weight, blah blah blah. Unlike her, I have no problem advertising myself and getting out there. After all, I'm in the pinnacle of my fame, aren't I? Affairs are nothing but extra fun. But hey, I'm honest at least.

She goes on and on and I just tune her out until she tsks and says "Good night."

I really hate Sharon.

I get another call not much later, one unexpected but very welcome.

"Hi Diesel."

"Viridian. How're ya doin'?"

"Fine." He holds his fluffy white cat on his lap, stroking her gently. "Vienna said that the reapings are soon."

"That's right, buddy."

"She's going to be gone then. You're going to be gone."

"Mhm. We're all gonna be hard at work." He sighs.

My, _hehe_ , friend Viridian Turner. His sister is an escort. Viridian himself, though, is autistic but a musical genius. He sleeps around more than you'd expect, though, and since forever my vow has been to get him in my bed. I can check Vienna off the list, and Santana (haha, the next morning she punched me in the nose and Ike was spluttering and swearing). Even old Ross couldn't say no after enough persisting.

"And your wedding. With Santana."

"Yup, that's right. Pretty soon I'll be a husband. Santana will be Mrs. Santana Bundren." I can't help but laugh at that thought. It's just so fucking funny. Santana hates me and she has to marry me. The prude's going to be miserable, but she'll always be there to be in my bed if I crap out.

"Vienna's talked a lot about it. Since you announced it."

"I had to get her this expensive-ass ring. That's money that could've been much better spent on… Well, me." I sigh.

"Of course." He sighs, sitting back. "How's your sister?"

"Katie? She's fine." I'm the only one allowed to call my sister Katie. Everyone else calls her Mary Catherine (obviously, Sharon named her. The only reason I started calling Mary Catherine Katie was because Sharon talked about how much she loved the name Mary Catherine).

"Yes, Mary Catherine. Diesel, tell me. Has she been… Seeing anyone?"

"Not since Padme was born." Yeah, my sister got preggers and had a kid, a little girl she named Padme Brian (blech). The little girl's 9 now, and she's my main consultant when it comes to Arena-making.

"Has she talked about me at all?" No way. She's head-over-heals in love with Viridian's sister. Confusing, isn't it? I'm glad I can never be held down by the shackles of love. I pity fools that fall in love, really.

"A little bit," I say, not wanting to tell the truth.

"I want to ask her to go out on a date with me." He says it so calmly. Something feels off in me.

"Oh. Yeah, maybe… I don't know what she'll say, I don't know. I'm very busy, though, so I'm afraid I have to go. Good night, Viridian."

"Night Diesel. Good luck. I'll be here supporting you and Mary Catherine and Vienna." I hang up the call.

I continue to go through my relics of serving in District 12. The funny jar they used as a glass, some weird antiques they had at the shop, a liquor bottle… And, of course, the more permanent souvenirs I got from the sexy tattoo artist District 12 has. Kasparek, I think his name is. Dennis Kasparek. Great artist, and I could just watch him for hours. Something about how he moves, carries himself. Also, a good ass always helps.

I pick up a piece of paper I don't remember, folded up, crinkled, hidden away. I unfold and smooth it out, and my stomach drops because yeah, I do remember what it is.

It was written in a time when I was stupid and afraid of death. It was nothing but being overly sentimental. I don't know why the hell I kept it this long. I crumple it up and put it in the trash where it belongs, but now the words replay in my head.

" _I love you. I fucking love you, Viridian Turner. Every move you make, every note you play, every smile (no matter how small), every laugh… I love you._

 _As soon as I get home, I'm going to tell you. But if I don't, you're going to find out like this. And if that's the case, I'm sorry I wasn't good enough._

 _Love, Diesel Bundren"_

It's all bullshit. Written in a time when I was just confused and had just gotten Dennis to bed and had nobody to lust after. I didn't mean any of it, of course. I can't be tied down, as I already said. I was just not thinking.

I spend some time looking at the Arena, my masterpiece (Santana's job was looking pretty while the real genius did all the work), surely that will cause the tributes a lot of grief. The show is just beginning and it's going to make me the most popular, beloved, famous Head Gamemaker there's ever been. Mm…

I put on some sexy (but easy-to-remove) clothes, and head down to the bar to catch some drunk guy (or girl I suppose…) that'll let me fuck them senseless, painfully, wriggling under me, whining and moaning and begging… Yeah, that sounds like the kind of night I want to have.

I crack my knuckles, ready to be a charming son of a bitch and get someone into my bed.

Everyone's out for reaping day celebration, after all. The Games are about to start soon. Tomorrow night there's going to be a party, and I (and the prude but who cares about the prude?) am the guest of honor.

I'm suddenly stopped by some press interviewing me about my plans. I laugh and regard them all with the upmost stage presence and politeness.

I go to my favorite bar and notice my sister there, drinking and giggling up a storm with Vienna Turner, her best friend. Both of the girls are escorts starting this year and so excited about it.

"Diesel!" Vienna squeals, waving. Mary Catherine bounces. "Big brother!"

"Hey," I say, smiling.

"Diesel," Ross looks up, contacts out, messy hair everywhere.

"What are you doing here?" I ask our Games historian. He keeps records of every Games, of trends, of what was and was not well-accepted… He gives me advice (and the prude, who he actually likes).

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"I agreed to be the designated driver," he says, gesturing to some people who are making out on the other side of the bar.

"Third wheel?" I laugh.

"At least I have "friends," right?"

"I suppose." I get a drink for myself.

"You really shouldn't be drinking."

"One drink isn't going to kill me," I tell him. He sighs, "Fine."

"You submit to your so-called _friends_ a lot, don't you?"

"I don't like to be that kid with no friends. I've always been that kid."

"Yeah." I remember when I talked the kid out of suicide. That was a _long_ time ago, though. I don't even think he remembers it was me.

"Hm." I finish the drink I was given. "Well, good talk, I'm gonna go pick up one of those guys over there that are wasted." I bid Ross farewell and waltz over to a boy with bright red hair who looks like he's lonely and horny.

.

The next evening, swarms around like chickens with their heads cut off, preparing for the reapings that will be happening tomorrow morning.

I stand at the train station, my arm linked with my sister's.

"Are you sure you'll be alright by yourself, Katie?" I ask her.

"Of course." She flips some of the blue and purple hair (she calls it galaxy colored), over her shoulder. "Will _you_ be okay watching Padme?"

"Padme loves her uncle Diesel!" I swish the pastel pink ponytail of my niece, who giggles, pulling on her white, red-brimmed ballcap.

"You be good," Katie says to her daughter, giving her a kiss on the head.

"Bye Mum!" Padme says cheerily, her accent just as thick and strong and Irish as the rest of ours. (Yeah, I don't really know what Irish means. Some culture that died out. But that's why we all have "funny voices" compared to the other Capitolites.)

Mary Catherine gets on the train to go to District 1. I take Padme's hand. "Let's go home. The reapings start early tomorrow."

Her bright blue eyes light up excitedly. "That's right! Will I get to watch it from the control room with you, Uncle Diesel?" She looks so damn hopeful… Damn, I can't say no to her. "Fine. I'm sure the others won't mind." I take the 11-year-old's hand and together we walk back to my place.

 _ **A/N: This should hopefully be the last prologue. As soon as I have both 1 male in (he's reserved) I can start with the reapings! There are still LOTS of spots open, for mentors and escorts and for tributes, so please submit!**_

 _ **Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I hope this story will have fairly normal updates! Remember, these points you earn are going to enable you to sponsor tributes when we get to the Games. Also remember that if you want to stockpile/get hundreds of points, read Voices (1**_ _ **st**_ _ **Games), Instinctive Travels (41**_ _ **st**_ _ **Games), and ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH! (36**_ _ **th**_ _ **Games). And if you want lots of fast points, review and answer the chapter question!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Which characters (if any) stuck out to you this chapter and why?**_

 _ **Scores:**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 26**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 16**_

 _ **20: 5**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 21**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 66**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 26**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 16**_

 _ **soliloquizing: 12**_

 _ **Josephm611: 12**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 16**_

 _ **Dreamer: 181**_

 _ **Kate: 193**_

 _ **Jess: 251**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 60**_

 _ **Sinfonian Legend: 225**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 75**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **epictomguy: 34**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_


	3. D1 Reaping

_-Iridesce Eurian, 18- dreams and desperation-_

I wake up in the library of the Academy, books scattered all around the table. I feel too lazy to lift my heard, twirling my finger around some of the dark blonde waves that are spread out across the table.

I sit up and gaze down at the page, noticing the smiling face of Gloss Constable. _This is the face of a Victor._ Yes, that's the kind of thing I like to see on my volunteering day.

When I finally get up and exit the library into the Training Center, I find my best friend Diamante Sawyer training. I stand in the doorway, watching her actions quietly, critiquing her every wrong move (and there are really a good number of mistakes). She looks up and notices me.

"Oh, good morning volunteer!" The last word comes out of her mouth more like a startled exclamation, as if she's just realizing the situation at hand. She runs over, takes both my hands, as if stunned that she's standing in the presence of the District 1 tribute in the 84th Hunger Games.

 _Well, not yet Iridesce. You could still be reaped, after all._ That would be my worst nightmare. It would really be my last chance to get in the Games. I have to get to the Games.

My parents were arguing about who would get to have me the night before the reaping, but they forgot a very important part of District 1 tradition: the annual Academy lock-in. The selected volunteers from District 1 have one last night before their reaping to be locked in the Academy with a posse of their choice, for one last night of training and studying before the big day.

I invited my best friends, Diamante and Luscious Arbor, who retired early last night and went to a guest room to sleep in a bed. The designated volunteer for the year, Gravity Stowers, is also awake, training silently on maces. Watching how he destroys that dummy is both intriguing and horribly intimidating. Nobody would dare challenge him, really. Except for me, of course.

"Get used to this," smiles Diamante, "You're going to be here again next year, for my Academy lock-in!" She flips her hair. "Now let's go, we need to wake up Luscious and get you ready for your big moment in the spotlight!" she smiles, taking my hand and skipping off.

I glance back at Gravity as we go, who has moved on to throwing knives and makes my stomach turn watching each one hit its target with spectacular accuracy. He's going to be stiff competition, but I'm not going to let some quiet, strong guy tear me away from this. I've worked just as hard as he has. I go into the bedroom, and together Dia and I wake up Luscious, who groans and pulls a pillow over her head. "Five more minutes," she groans.

"No, no five more minutes!" Diamante protests. "We let you sleep as long as possible! C'mon, we have to help Iridesce get ready for her moment in the spotlight!"

Luscious sits up, wiping her eyes and stretching with a smile. "Oh, yeah. Alright." She gets out of bed slowly and heads to the bathroom while Diamante puts on her nice reaping dress and fluffs her hair.

Luscious comes back from the bathroom as Diamante is helping me zip up the back of my reaping dress, a very sophisticated green dress that sweeps across my feet. I'm no party-girl, not really ditzy and giggly, and I want to make sure the Capitol sponsors understand that from the first second they see my face on the screen.

Diamante and Luscious do my hair as I sit still, combing it carefully and arranging it perfectly. They cover my face with concealer, hiding any blemishes that may have been there, and frame my blue eyes in dark eyeliner and deep green eyeshadow to make them pop. They don't color my lips too much, but put a light gloss on to make them shiny.

Diamante looks like she could burst she's so excited. The Games are one thing that make her truly excited. Though she's more toward the bottom of her age group, she aspires to volunteer someday. As her best friend, it's my job to encourage her. If I'm a Victor, I'll have more of a say for her, I suppose, but I can't decide everything no matter how great I am in the Games.

My other best friend is the complete opposite, really. Luscious isn't nearly as ambitious as myself and Diamante. She has so much potential that goes to waste, but as her friend I can only do so much to try and make her live up to what she can be. I don't like to pester her about it.

I step into some silver heels, knowing that they'll be covered by the long dress but feeling confident all the same.

My friends make last-minute touches to my nails and hair, and then step back, grinning. "You're ready for your reaping," they say, beaming.

I've never been the type to giggle and smile, even when I'm feeling radiantly happy. "But _you're_ not ready for my reaping," I inform my friends flatly. Diamante sits by the mirror and touches up her make-up while Luscious gets dressed.

"If you get reaped, I'll volunteer for you," Luscious says, but she's obviously being sarcastic. She knows I'd be the first to kill her if she did that.

"Maybe I'll be reaped this year," gushes Diamante, beaming. "Then I could be the one to present you with your volunteering gifts." It's tradition here at District 1 that each year the tribute that is reaped visits the tribute that volunteered for them and presents them with a laurel crown, bouquet of flowers, a medal, and other gifts for earning the opportunity. It's just a cute little tradition, really. I've never been reaped before, but I always wanted to be so I could have an excuse to visit the volunteer and give them gifts. It's probably a good thing I wasn't reaped, though, because people often say I lack tact and I'm quite critical, especially of volunteers.

By the time we're all dressed, everyone has arrived at the Academy for our annual breakfast banquet. The food is plentiful and delicious, and it's a time to mingle with those that are training at the Academy. Gravity flips curly brown hair out of his face, his green eyes alight with laughter as he's having the time of his life.

"Good luck, Iridesce. Aren't you excited!?" asks some 17-year-old whose name I've never cared to learn.

"No," I say flatly, "Of _course_ I'm not excited. Not at all." I roll my eyes. I'm sorry, but sometimes stupid questions need sarcastic answers.

She rolls her eyes. _Bite me_. I talk to some of my other training acquaintances, and meet Gravity talking to a mutual acquaintance.

"Good morning," he says, with another hair-flip.

"Morning. Today's the big day."

"Indeed."

I quickly give him a nod and go off to find Diamante and Luscious. Suddenly, Gloss Constable and his sister Cashmere bang on their glasses with forks, getting the attention of the whole Academy.

"Today," says Gloss, in a big, theatrical voice mocking Blaine Buchanan's, "Is a very special day for two people."

Cashmere pushes past him, causing him to wrinkle his nose in annoyance. "Today, we honor our two designated volunteers as they prepare for the quest of a lifetime! To serve their District in the 84th annual Hunger Games!"

Everyone applauds and cheers. Gravity pumps his fist as people pat him on the back in congratulations. My friends squeeze my hand and my shoulders. Even though they're my friends, I could definitely get used to being commended by beautiful girls all the time.

"To Iridesce Eruian and Gravity Stowers! We wish you the best in your Games! Cheers!" says Gloss cheerfully, his voice booming. Everyone clanks glasses with someone around them. Niesha Varlett, Victor of the 82nd Games just two years ago, raises a glass, a smile on her lips, and the other Victors all applaud.

Suddenly, it's 7:45 and we're heading to the Square for the reaping. I regret not seeing my family, but they'll be able to visit me after it's over. As I walk with my friends, I notice that people are pointing me out and whispering. I guess the news of my volunteering has spread.

I'm stopped by a little girl in a navy dress, her dark hair pulled up in wavy little pigtails. "Hi!" she says. "You're the volunteer!"

"Yes, I am," I smile at her. "What's your name? I'm Iridesce."

"I'm Cheer, I'm 5!" she says. "Cheer Candelaria! I'm going to volunteer when I'm big and strong and 18, just like you!" Her eyes sparkle with excitement."

"Who knows, maybe I'll be your mentor?"

The little girl giggles. "Yeah!"

Her mother comes up, holding the hand of a little boy no more than 2 sucking on his fingers. "Cheer! Let's go!" The girl giggles. "I have to go back to Mama and Soul! Bye!"

"It was nice meeting you!" I wave after her as she skips off.

"What's it like being treated like a star?!" Diamante asks. I shrug her off. "It's okay, I guess." It's great.

We arrive at the Square and get our blood taken. I let the people staring at me empower me as I stand with Luscious in the 18's section, bouncing on my feet, waiting for the opportunity to volunteer.

Suddenly, we hear the mayor talking on the stage and the reaping begins.

The escort for this year is new, introducing herself as Mary Catherine Bundren. She has bright hair colored many different blues, purples, some greens, and silver, put up in many elaborate braids styled up in a way that's kind of bizarre. She wears a dress that looks like the night sky, and has on the hugest eyelash extensions I've ever seen.

She speaks loudly and with a very strong accent. "Good morning District 1!" Everyone applauds, including me. She puts on the video, but it goes by so fast, I don't pay attention. Suddenly, she's at the reaping bowl, picking the girl's name. She gets right to the point, clearing her throat and reading loudly, "Health Meyers!"

The girl emerges from the 15 section, her head up high, a smile on her face.

"So," says Mary Catherine, "Do we have any volunteers?"

I take it as my cue, breaking through the crowd and shouting loud and clear, "I volunteer!" I stand up taller and smile proudly.

"Wonderful! What's your name, then?"

"Iridesce Eurian." I say it loud and clear.

"Great!" Mary Catherine beams and goes to the male reaping bowl. She swirls her hand around and picks a name, unfolding the paper and reading clearly:

"Gravity Stowers!"

.

 _Callum Ainsworth, 17- fat necrosis_

I'm out of bed early, not like I slept much anyways. I sit with my grandmother, gently rubbing her hands that ail her so much. She sleeps, peacefully, hopefully unable to feel the pain of the arthritis, the pain of not being able to walk for herself…

I know that I'm her only caretaker, and she still loves me and supports me, but… It's so hard to see her so miserable. Sometimes she's not even… Here with us. Here, but not really here. I continue to stroke her hands until I have to look away from her old face, sunken and exhausted from constantly being in pain.

I hear my grandfather stir in his bedroom and go to help him get up and prepare for the day. His vision is going, so he needs help getting around.

"Good morning Grandpa," I say, and he takes my arm, nodding at me in greeting. I help him to the bathroom. "I'll be making breakfast. Call me if you need any help." I don't think I could spend another day in the hospital, though, with another one of his broken bones. I go to the kitchen and set out food on the table, not feeling awake enough to cook after the long night I had caring for Grandma.

While I was awake, I had a lot of time to think. My mind wandered away from my aging grandparents, and I kept on thinking about my future, about the inevitability of both Grandma and Grandpa dying and leaving me without friends and family. Last night… Had I really been thinking straight? I start to doubt myself, how my mind wandered.

I go to the bathroom for myself and get ready for this reaping day. I wash my face and brush my teeth. I bend over backwards in the mirror, fluffing my totally average blonde hair out of my face and noticing a red dot on my cheek, right below my eyes.

I sigh quietly, going to my grandmother's bedroom, where she sleeps, and taking a dab of concealer from her vanity. I dab it on the spot, making it disappear. I may look average, but part of me still cares enough to put in effort like this.

I put on my nice clothes for the reaping and go back to my grandfather, helping him down the stairs as Grandma wakes up. I grab a banana for myself and a bowl of oatmeal for her and go to help her up.

"Good morning," she says. I don't know if she's here or not, but she has such an empty look in her eyes nowadays all the time. I know that she's going to have to be put out of her misery someday, but I dread the day.

"Morning Grandma," I say gently. "I made you breakfast."

"Oh, I'm not hungry, thank you though, Callum." She's here. Her appetite has been going slowly, and she barely wants to eat anymore.

"How are you feeling?"

She shakes her head a little bit. I know she's in pain.

"Eat, and then you can take a pill," I tell her. Her arthritis is so bad she can't hold the fork, so I have to feed her. I really don't mind, I care so much for her.

After I finish feeding her breakfast and helping her get dressed and into her wheelchair, I bid my grandparents farewell, going to the market to talk to my friends before the reaping.

I know there's a banquet happening at the Krietzer Academy for Future Tributes of Panem, but I can't go because I was kicked out. I wasn't performing well enough, they said, so "We regret to inform you that we're letting you go." With a part-time job and the constant search for more money while caring for my grandparents, I really didn't need the training of the Academy.

I go into the market, noticing that it's bustling with people talking about Gravity Stowers and Iridesce Eurian, the selected volunteers. They're both the big winners, selected for their exceptional talent and skill. Though it was a relief to be cut out from the Academy, it still sucks that I wasn't selected as a big winner. There are a lot of things I don't like about myself, really. But the fact that I'm not a winner is the one I hate most.

The market is bustling with people, having conversations. It's a little too claustrophobic for me with so many people here, and so many loud conversations. I immediately start to feel anxious, wanting to sink into the floor. I hang my head down, avoiding eye-contact with anyone. I see all these people around me, people from school and even strangers at the market, and wish I could talk to them. It seems that when I try to talk to anyone, though, I completely freeze up. I hate that.

I buy a pack of almonds, though my appetite's been lost, and find my best friend Armory easily because of his bright ginger hair. I can tell by how he looks he has that he's hungover as fuck. I smile a little bit.

"Morning," I say. He throws up a hand, grunting. He takes a sip of the strongest coffee he could get.

"Crazy night last night?"

"Woke up next to someone I didn't even recognize." He laughs a little bit, then groans. "Fuck…"

I pat his back gently. "Don't worry. Next time I'll be there to drag your ass out of there before you do anything horribly stupid like that. I just… Had to care for Grandma. She was having a bad night."

He nods understandingly. "It's fine. Really, it's fine."

We go outside together, him complaining about how his head pounds. I notice a 13-year-old girl on her way to the Academy that I recognize very well. I couldn't possibly say whether or not she knows who I am, but I definitely know her. We share a last name, but I'm not exactly well-known in the District so she might not know who I am… Either way, I want to avoid talking to Amina, my sister, watching her walk away. She lives with my mother, who abandoned me. I'm still bitter about it, but I know my grandparents raised me well and I'm very thankful for them.

Just then, I notice another friend, one that I've known for less time but still feel crazy close to. She flips her greasy brown hair out of her eyes, waving to us quietly.

"Hey," she says. Armory and I both greet her as we start walking for a quieter, calmer spot, by the fountain. I breathe a sigh of relief at the silence.

After some small-talk, I bid my friends farewell and go to make sure my bedridden grandparents are on the list to be excused for not attending the reaping. When I get the all-clear to go, I go back to the reaping, getting registered and falling into the group of 17-year-old boys, all talking excitedly about Iridesce and Gravity.

"Did you hear that Iridesce is genderfluid?" someone next to me asks his friend.

"What the hell's that?" asks another.

"Hell if I know. But she's totally a lesbo," says the first guy.

"Shame," says the friend. I grit my teeth, wishing they wouldn't talk so offensively.

To get my mind off it, I find Armory in the crowd of 16's, and see Niss in the group of 17-year-old girls.

The escort takes the stage just then, introducing herself with a powerful, booming voice. She's brand new, and very young, which is a surprise. Usually the young escorts get put in the lower Districts and the older, seasoned escorts get bumped up to the strongest Districts (1 and 2). It's been absolutely _forever_ since District 1 had an escort younger than 45, but it's fairly refreshing. She shows the video, and picks the girl name. As planned, Iridesce volunteers.

My mind wanders. I have nothing left. My grandparents are going to die, probably soon, and I'll have to deal with funeral expenses while being left all on my own. _Can I really do it?_

 _Are you really sure this is how to solve your problem, Callum?_ I ask myself.

Mary Catherine picks the boy's name. My heart pounds out of my chest. _Am I going to do this?! No way. No way, I'm too anxious, too quiet, I don't have the balls to do it!_

"Gravity Stowers!"

The District plunges into silence.

The selected volunteer stiffens up, in shock, with a gasp. He looks despaired. His dreams have just been crushed. It's officially a free-for-all. He threatens the crowd as he goes up to the stage.

"Oh… Wonderful…" Mary Catherine can tell something was fucked up. "So… Any volunteers?"

For the first time in forever, the crowd is silent at the question. Nobody would dare volunteer for Gravity, especially having to face him after the reaping.

My hand goes up in the air. _This is going to help your future. You can do it._ I force myself to speak. "I volunteer as tribute!"

The crowd goes silent, a lot of the boys trying to figure out where the voice came from. I step out from the 17-year-olds, feeling the piercing eyes of the 18-year-olds on me, feeling like I could cry from the anxiety. I know they all hate me, but it's too late now. Gravity's emerald eyes are dark with hatred as he intentionally bumps my shoulder on my way up. I take the steps, trying to not panic at the dead silence I receive from the crowd.

"What's your name, Dear?" she asks me.

I swallow hard. "Callum Ainsworth." My voice booms across the shocked District, greeted with silence. I avoid looking at my friends and grandparents.

"Yes, then. Well, here are your District 1 tributes for the 84th Hunger Games, Iridesce Eurian and Callum Ainsworth!" The crowd applauds, and we're escorted back to the Justice Building.

.

Armory and Niss come in first. Tears stream down Niss's face, and Armory looks much more well than he did before, but also more upset.

"Callum…" he's the first one to speak, taking my hands. "Why did you do it?" He looks completely shocked, stunned. He doesn't know what to say.

"Callum," Niss chokes out, in tears. "I can't believe you… Actually…"

"I refuse to be alone." It comes out weakly at first, so I say it again, more firmly. "I refuse to be alone. My grandparents will be dead soon, my Mom and sister hate me… I'm not going to be alone. I need the money."

"You have to win," Niss says, crying, "I can't go on without you, Callum… We need you here. Make sure to make them like you, get sponsors, don't fall for the Career alliance's tricks, alright?" She sniffles.

"Alright." I smile at her. "I'll win. Don't worry about me."

Armory takes me into a tight hug, not sure what to say. "Fuck, I need you back. Who else will be there to drag my drunk ass home?" A laugh bubbles out of his throat, "Niss?" I laugh.

"No need to worry," I tell them. I mean it.

After one last group hug, they're escorted out, and the next people through the door surprise me.

I tense up. "Mother."

"Good day Callum. Congratulations to you," she says, her eyes softening.

I look at the ground awkwardly, refusing to look at her, and mutter, "Thanks."

My sister Amina, now 13 (the same age I was the last time I saw my mother), waves to me but looks like she would rather not be with me right now.

My mother holds out a necklace to me, with two gold bands on the end. "I told your grandparents what you did. They want you to have this as your token. We're supposed to give it to you."

I take it and nod curtly to her. "Thank you."

She and Amina get up and leave before the Peacekeepers tell them to.

Last to visit, stiff and staunch, biting his lip, is Gravity. He presents me with a medal, and a laurel crown, customary to give to the tribute that volunteered. I wasn't expecting him to come, and don't know what to say to him.

 _Be smart, Callum. Be courteous, but don't put yourself down in the process. Say something smooth. God, he's attractive. Wow._

"How're you taking it?" Yeah, that was a stupid thing to ask. "Sorry," I add quickly.

"It's how the cookie crumbles." He laughs bitterly. "It's up to fate. It's not your fault my name was the one chosen from that damn bowl."

"What's next for you, then?" His pretty green eyes stare at the floor, looking at our feet.

"Become a trainer. If my parents don't kill me first, I suppose. Maybe go for Head Trainer."

"You'd be a good Head Trainer," I say, searching for anything else I might say to leave a good impression on him, to make him think highly of me. I mean, this guy is _really_ cute. Thinking about that isn't really helping my case, though.

"Thanks," he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck with a strong arm. My ears must go red. No, I'm almost positive they do. "Good luck in the Games," he mumbles, getting up. He pats my back. "Make the District proud."

"Alright man." Gravity leaves and we're suddenly on the train to go to the Capitol.

.

 _Iridesce_

My mom visits me first, smiling. "Congratulations, my dear," she says, hugging me and kissing the top of my head. She's a single mom, has been since before I was born, but she's been spectacular to me.

"You have to come home, alright?" she asks me, holding me in her arms.

"Of course," I say, smiling. "I can't wait."

She kisses my cheek one last time. "I love you, Iridesce. I'm proud of the young person you've become."

"Thanks Mom." The Peacekeepers escort her out, and next comes my father, and step-mother Radiance.

"Hi Adi," I say, smiling. She hugs me, and my father next.

My younger step-brother Alabaster gives me a hug, though he huffs about it. "You should've heard the toast they made, just for Iridesce!" he says. "Although they _could've_ said-"

"That's enough," I say, sighing. I don't want the know-it-all to ruin it for me. He rolls his eyes at me.

Soon, though, the positive memories come back, and soon we're all laughing. Adi and Pa give me a last hug and kiss and wishes of good luck before they're escorted out.

Health, the girl that was reaped, visits next, putting a laurel crown on my head and giving me flowers and my medal. She tells me how glad she is to be meeting me and how she wishes the very best for me. I tell her I'm not worried, especially now that Gravity was shut out by some 17-year-old that dropped out of the Academy. She gives me a hug and when she leaves, I feel like a princess.

Diamante and Luscious come next, gushing.

"You have to come back, Iridesce, so you can mentor me next year!" Diamante says.

"No, I'm just not coming back. I volunteered to die," I say flatly.

"No need for the sarcasm," she says, but she's laughing.

"Congrats," says Luscious.

"Thanks," I say, smiling.

"You're going to be beautiful and come back home to us and be a great mentor forever more. I can't wait."

"I can." I'm met with blank stares so I add, "No, I can't, of course."

I bid farewell to my friends, and before I know it I'm boarding the train to the Capitol, and my time preparing for the Games has begun.

.

 _ **A/N: I stayed up waaaaay to late but I wanted this to be done for tomorrow! But I was on a roll and had to finish it out.**_

 _ **To my submitters: I hope you liked it! I hope you don't mind what I added (mostly the reaped tributes visiting after the reaping), but that's in my headcanon and I wanted to stay consistent.**_

 _ **I hope you enjoyed my take on the volunteering District traditions. Feel free to use the headcanons how you like, let me know if you liked them/want to use them! Gravity is 100% made up by me to add some depth to the plot, I hope you guys liked him.**_

 _ **This story is officially rolling! I'm so excited!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: To my D1 submitters: How did you like their reapings? To my non-D1 submitters: Which of these tributes stood out to you more and why?**_

 _ **Scores:**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 26**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 6**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 31**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 12**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 21**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 21**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 36**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 16**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 21**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 77**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 26**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 22**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 16**_

 _ **Josephm611: 22**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 2**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 16**_

 _ **Dreamer: 217**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 111**_

 _ **Sinfonian Legend: 265**_

 _ **Jess: 251**_

 _ **Kate: 193**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 75**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **epictomguy: 34**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_


	4. D2 Reaping

_-Margaret Jane Blackstone, 16-_ _Rosemarie Benson-_

I wake up in a bed, covered up in blankets, hearing the warm, gentle breath breathing gently against my shoulder. I don't remember getting into bed, and have a feeling that while I passed out sprawled out on my bedroom carpet knitting, I'd been taken to bed.

"Good morning," whispers a sleepy voice. I smile pushes its way across my lips.

"Good morning beautiful," I say quietly.

Hannah shakes me gently before sitting up, and I sit up, too. Even when she looks sleepy and her strawberry blonde hair is tousled, she's still the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life.

My mother didn't mind that I had Hannah over for the night before the reaping. She trusts us enough to know that we're too good to do anything she may not approve of. Hannah had been my best friend ever since I can remember, so my Mom definitely trusts her and her family. We had always been closer than friends, ever since we met, but we didn't figure that out until we were 13. It was horrific, that period of time that I knew I was in love with her and was too afraid to tell her. I was too scared that I would ruin our friendship if I told her I loved her. I'm not one to let my fear conquer me if I can help it, though, so I let it slip to her. She said she would let me know, reassured me that everything would be okay no matter what… We decided to give it a shot.

We've been happy together ever since. She's become my sunshine, she knows me better than everyone else, and I am grateful that she loves me so well. Not a bad life that I have here.

Coming out to my parents was horrifying, but I was determined to be brave. I was blessed to have accepting parents that love me, and that enjoy Hannah as well. Or, well, one parent.

See, that's where things kind of get dark. It's also the reason that I wanted to have Hannah over last night. She's the only one I trust enough to see me cry, really, besides my mother. I trust my little sister, of course, but she's only 5 and she looks up to me. She wouldn't take well to seeing her big sister Maggie in tears.

When I was fourteen, my father (who was an innocent civilian, mind you) was caught in a protest on his way home from work. He never made it home.

It's the one event in my life that completely knocked me down a few pegs. I miss him every day. Sometimes, I have these awful nightmares about him, and wake up crying. Once I'm up from those nightmares, the tears don't stop, nor am I going back to sleep any time soon.

I stayed awake with some knitting, and had asked Hannah to stay over for the night, as long as her family didn't mind. She was over as soon as she could be over. She sat with me while I mindlessly knitted. We sat in a comfortable silence for a while before the haunting memories of hearing that he won't come home and seeing his bleeding body came back. I started crying, and Hannah was there. I cried for a while, trying to knit to calm myself down while Hannah lay with me. When I passed out from the tears, she'd picked me up and carried me to bed, wrapping me up in blankets and snuggling up close just in case I were to have a bad dream.

You know, I don't think I did anything to deserve Hannah Alice Roth. She often says that she doesn't know what she did to be worthy of me, but I don't believe it when she says it anyways.

"We should get ready for the reaping," yawns Hannah. I nod, getting out of bed and quickly using the bathroom, washing my face, and brushing my teeth. When I glance at my reflection in the mirror, a (blurry), exhausted girl that still looks slightly like she's been crying stares back at me. I strip and get in the shower as Hannah brushes her teeth and does her hair and gets dressed.

I take the time to wake up with the gentle, warm water, and stretch out all my muscles, letting them feel relaxed and losing all their tension. I scrub my light tan skin, and shampoo my dark brown hair, rinsing off and taking my time until Hannah says, "Come on already, Maggie, your mother's calling for breakfast and I still have to help you get ready!"

"Fine," I sigh, cutting the shower short. I wrap a towel around my head so my mid-back-length hair doesn't drip, and put underwear and a robe so Hannah can come help me with my hair. She dries it out helps me blow-dry it, all as I watch her reflection in the mirror. She's blurry, but so familiar, and I can see her fun, light pink dress and know that I'm going to love it when I can actually see it. Then again, Hannah can make _anything_ look good.

After my hair is mostly dry, Hannah puts it in her favorite style on me, a fishtail braid to the side. I sit still as she finishes her work, and then we move on to the actual reaping outfit. I slide into the to-my-knees dark purple dress and black tights, grumbling all the way because I absolutely hate how ridiculous they feel. Hannah sympathetically helps zip me up in the back and helps me into my wedged shoes, so now I practically appear like a giant next to my girlfriend. My beautiful little Hannah stands at the adorable height of 5'3, and at 5'6 plus heels, the height difference is noticeable.

Sometimes people like to pick on Hannah and call her a nerd (in the rude way), and those people get to answer to my fist. Everyone that calls either of us anything relating to manly or butch, they get kicked where the sun don't shine, or their teeth punched out, whichever will hurt more.

I am very protective of my girlfriend, and Hannah's always got my back. It's really the most perfect relationship I ever could've asked for.

After Hannah helps me put the horrid gunk on my face that people call make-up, she and I walk out to the kitchen together where my mother has breakfast on the table. My mother's dark blue eyes smile gently at us, whereas my little sister Sammie's eyes of the same color are bright and excited.

"Good morning, dears," Mom says, smiling. "How did you sleep?"

"Well, thank you," says Hannah, sitting at the table. She's practically part of the family, has been since we were kids. We eat some scrambled eggs and bacon, listening to Sammie chattering about her new favorite-colored crayon (it _was_ the cornflower blue, but now it's the jade green), and other innocent things in the life of the 5-year-old. Hannah and I listen and provide intellectual commentary about these direly important issues.

Soon, though, Hannah and I go to the Academy to get a view of District 2's chosen volunteers. They each get a golden laurel crown for the reaping, so that everybody knows which of them was chosen to volunteer.

"I heard there wasn't a very good batch this year," Hannah says, as we walk down the street, hand-in-hand. I wish we could walk down the street holding hands without people staring at us like we're outliers or weird.

"It wouldn't surprise me. With Enobaria and Brutus at the head of the Academy's decision-making, I wouldn't be surprised if they made the recruits just duel it out and refused to pick anyone.

"What if nobody volunteered?" I ask, contemplating what would happen. "Would it become a precedent for the District to stop choosing volunteers?"

"Probably not," sighs Hannah. "If only. If nobody volunteered, then they would become even more violent. Push people even harder. The Games would implode on this District."

"Yeah, I suppose. It _is_ customary for there to be a volunteer." We arrive to the Academy just as Enobaria and Brutus are shaking their heads. "No female volunteers have been selected this year. No one of you outshone the others." They tell the female tribute wannabes that whoever wants to volunteer is going to have to earn the right. The boy volunteer, though, is crowned. Justus Fiore stands on the stage, arms crossed, a smirk on his face. He looks powerful and mighty, and I know that nobody smart will volunteer to face him.

Hannah and I split from there just as everyone else is released on their way to the reaping. This year, Hannah and I aren't able to escape and get caught in the crowd of teens exiting to go to the reaping in a huge blob, the volunteer leading them.

However, this year, something weird happens. The crowd goes, but they leave without Justus. He looks slightly offended (he's not exactly well-liked), but takes the time to shake the hands of the Victors as Hannah and I leave. We're among the last in line, behind a couple holding hands and getting registered for the reaping, seeming bashful. Soon, they'll have to separate with a last kiss goodbye.

Not that they should really be a worry about who's reaped, anyways. Hannah and I have our blood taken and go to the 16 section together, hand-in-hand. This is one way that Hannah and I are so lucky, that we don't have to separate. I'm going to have her this whole time, and we can watch together, see the volunteers, dream of escaping…

The reaping starts when a fairly young woman steps onto the stage. She's not the grossest Capitolite I've ever seen before, with no adjustments to skin or plastic surgery that I can see, looking very much like a doll with bright purple eyes, pale skin, rosy cheeks, soft pink lips, and a sweet expression. She has very colorful hair, wound in to buns, one on each side of her head. She greets us and introduces herself as Vienna Turner, which is somewhat of a plain name for a Capitolite.

She shows us the video, obviously scanning the crowd to find the tributes with a golden laurel crown. The video ends and she picks the girl's name. "Matilda Byers!"

The girl steps out from the group of 13-year-olds. Vienna smiles. "Any volunteers?"

The crowd goes silent. The girls in front of me exchange glances. _"…they would become even more violent. Push people even harder. The Games would implode on this District_." The poor 13-year-old girl starts to look horrified, but none of the girls would volunteer to face Justus. I can't let this happen to the District, I can't break custom… I let go of Hannah's hand. She squeaks a little bit, but doesn't have time to stop me from shouting, "I volunteer!"

Everyone turns to look at me.

"Maggie," gasps Hannah, sounding shocked and upset. Tears come to her eyes. My heart shatters, but I stumble away from her, not looking at her, not after what I've just done. I make it up to the stage.

"Yes, wonderful! What's your name, dear?"

I swallow hard, speaking clearly into the microphone. "Maggie Blackstone."

"Wonderful!" Vienna smiles and looks extremely happy for me before going to pick the boy's name. Her hand doesn't even break the surface of the bowl, taking a paper from the very top center that almost seems to be sticking out from how the names were mixed up.

"Vidarr Yggdraval!" The crowd goes silent. A boy emerges from the 18 section, lankier than expected with light hair and dark eyes.

"Any volunteers for this young man?" The crowd goes silent. Everyone looks around for Justus, expecting him to burst out last-minute dramatically, as is usual. Vienna doesn't pause for as long as she did for the girls, smiling benevolently.

"Everyone, your tributes for the 84th annual Hunger Games, Maggie Blackstone and Vidarr Yggdraval!"

.

 _-Vidarr Yggdraval, 18- Sinfonian Legend-_

I wake up to an empty bed. I sit up, confused.

"Ashe?" I ask, my voice cracking a bit from sleepiness. "Ashe?"

I get out of bed, not even feeling ashamed at walking around the house in boxers and a thin T-shirt anymore. I poke my head around to the bathroom, where I find my young, beautiful wife swearing into the toilet.

"Ashe!" I go over, taking her dark hair and holding it back from her face. "Are you alright, dear?"

"I just… It must be the flu. I felt god-awful last night, too," she says, sounding hoarse and definitely not like the powerful Ashe I knew. My dearest resumes retching into the toilet, and my heart breaks to see her like this. I gently rub her back as she hurls up the contents of her stomach into the toilet. "Do you want me to try to find some remedies for that?" I only bring up my knowledge of remedies at certain times because it's very limited compared to my knowledge of poisons. Which is something that I'd much rather Ashe forget about me.

I had been sent by Snow to kill her father, and the plan had completely and utterly backfired. I didn't ever expect being forced into hiding, married to Ashe. It's all been worth it, though, because I'm living happily with my dearest, and this is my last reaping.

Ashe was saying that she was able to find out how the male volunteer, though District 2 has been getting more and more harsh on who they deem worthy to volunteer.

Right now, though, my beautiful wife isn't really in a position to deal with me. She's too busy calling the toilet a "Bitch-ass pig-shit cunt-nugget!" to care about one single other thing. Finally, once Ashe's stomach has thoroughly cleared itself of all contents, she stands up, her usually vibrant caramel skin paler than normal, looking slightly discombobulated. I help her to the sink to get some water to sip and rinse out her mouth. She rinses and spits and few times before swallowing down a small sip.

"Thanks," she says quietly. I kiss the back of her neck, knowing she won't be offended because I definitely don't want to be sick.

"Good morning," I say, smiling at her slightly teasingly. "I think we've got something plain for breakfast." She nods. I leave her only to get my glasses (bought from the thrift store) and slide them on my face. They're not exactly perfect, but close enough that most things have details.

I take her hand and together we move out to the kitchen, enjoying the brightness of morning from our small window, only affected by a layer of dust and grime. Our place is far from great, but because Ashe is here, it's home.

My beautiful wife's full name is Ayesha, and she's the apple of my eye. I don't think I could do anything without her, to be honest. I'm even willing to catch the flu if it means helping her out. She was well-off and engaged to be married to some douche her parents were fond of. And yet, she chose to run away, therefore losing it all, for me. And I'm very far from perfect.

Before meeting Ashe I was a completely different person. She changed me for the better, she put a special new hatred for the Capitol in my heart. I hadn't hated them before meeting Ashe, I had actually been one of Snow's most talented puppets, doing his dirty work for him. I can't believe I was ever that person, and yet I was. Ashe is the reason I changed, the reason I gave up my work for the President, and the reason to this very day that I abhor the Capitol and their stupid Games.

Now, though, there's none of that heavy stuff. It's just homely, and warm, and peaceful. I like to think my life didn't really start until Ashe and I ran away together. Ashe's beautiful blue eyes smile at me as she nibbles on a cracker.

"Just because I don't want to eat doesn't mean that you shouldn't," she says, giving me a gentle kick under the table. "You don't have to be hungry just out of pity for me." She smiles. I know she's right. Even though I know she'd like to have a good breakfast like mine, I eat.

"Just one more reaping, Vi," she whispers. I'm sure she would wrap her arms around me if she weren't so ill. My poor Ashe.

Even when she's sick she's smiling, and even when she's just tossed all her cookies, she's still beautiful.

Man.

I am in _soooooo_ deep.

And, of course, I love it.

Ashe and I go back to the small, dim bedroom that we share, where we find our reaping clothes to change into. I put on something simple (that was easily bought with stolen money). Ashe wears a cute, simple gray dress with black leggings and fuzzy boots. Her gray scarf completes the outfit, and her sunny blue eyes are impossible to look away from.

She runs a brush through her hair but doesn't feel very keen on putting too much effort into her outfit, and I wouldn't either if I were sick, in all honesty. I style my white-blond hair up from my face, using some gel (bought with stolen money… But don't tell Ashe) to make sure it stays up.

In the other room, I hear Ashe giggle a little bit. I look in to see her sitting with the TV on. "Vi! This guy looks like you," she says, sounding a lot more lively and like herself, which really is a relief to hear.

"Does he now? What Games?"

"Thirty-six."

"Old one," I remark, sitting down and looking at the pack of Careers walking together on the screen. "Why would they be showing this when it's so old?"

"They're showing scenes from each one, I think. I'm not sure." She shrugs. "That guy's not nearly as attractive as you, though."

I laugh, she smiles at me. I want to give her lots of kisses and cuddles, but right now's probably not the best time for that. Oh, well, I'll have plenty of time for that once she's feeling better.

"I'm serious, though. After all, he doesn't have the night sky in his eyes. Nobody has the night sky in their eyes like you do."

I grin at her, my dearest Ashe. "Nobody has the sunny blue sky in their eyes like you do, though." She giggles, glancing at the screen.

"Seriously, though. Are you sure you're not distantly related to that guy? You very well could be."

"I feel like if I had a relative in the Games, I'd definitely know about it." She turns off the television.

"Come on," she says, her voice light and playful, "Let's get to our last reaping." I take her hand and together, we go to the Town Square.

Everything seems so much brighter when I have my Ashe with me.

"How's Amir doing?" asks Ashe quietly, smiling.

"He's doing alright. Haven't talked to him in a long while, though." He's got a lot of issues, really.

"Hm."

We walk together in a comfortable silence, her hand fitting perfectly in mine, comfortable, with a sunny sky and a slight summer breeze. We get to the Town Square after the hoard of Academy trainees, getting our blood taken before we have to separate.

I pull Ashe over to the side to avoid being run into and kiss her forehead. "I'll find you after the reapings, my dearest. Then we can go get some remedies for that stomach."

"I'll try not to projectile vomit during the reaping," she says, before she bursts out laughing, causing the laugh to be infectious. I love to see my Ashe happy. Ashe follows two girls walking hand-in-hand and I go to the 18's section. As I'm walking past, I hear exclamations that sound like they're coming from a boy my age. I wonder what happened but shrug it off and walk to my spot.

The video plays, and I try not to cringe. The escort for this year is not as bad as many but still way too vibrant for my taste. I try to find Ashe in the crowd of eighteen-year-olds. The escort whose name I didn't even care to learn goes to the girl's bowl first. She picks a name and reads it loud and clear. The girl, a 13-year-old, makes it to the stage without anyone calling out to take her place. I start to think that this may be the day that District 2 has a reaped tribute. The escort asks for volunteers, drawing out the question and lingering on it, giving plenty of opportunity. Soon, though, someone does volunteer, loud and clear, stepping out from the section of 16-year-olds and making her way to the stage, all while the District sits in silence.

She's a girl that looks obviously uncomfortable to be wearing high heels and a dress, and by the time she announces her name to be Maggie Blackstone, she looks as if she's in disbelief of what she's done.

Then, the escort steps over to the boy's bowl, smiling brightly at all of us as if this is so exciting and fun. She hums to herself happily, and I feel sick (great, I'm already getting it from Ashe… Or maybe it's just from hatred of the Capitol… I don't know!). She doesn't bury her hand too deeply into the list of names, picking up a piece of paper sticking up right from the top. A sudden sense of dread comes over me, for a reason I couldn't explain to you.

"Vidarr Yggdraval!" The District seems confused, as if nobody remembers who I am anymore since I ran away. Not like I have any family or real friends besides Ashe, anyways. I've always been isolated. I make my way up to the stage, waiting expectantly for someone to volunteer to take my place, as is the custom. I scan the crowd for any sign of the laurel crown of the volunteer. Surely there are many bloodthirsty people to take my place… I couldn't last in the Games.

I make it up to the stage, finding nobody in the crowd intent on volunteering for me. When I make the mistake of looking over to the girls, I find Ashe, and make eye contact, and then she looks away from me and stares into the ground. She has no shoulder to cry on… I want to run down there and hug her, let her cry into my shoulder, but I have to keep my place, and really I have to look like this was completely planned and it doesn't bother me at all.

"Any volunteers?" She doesn't wait long, cutting the question short as she announces, "Everyone, Your tributes for the 84th annual Hunger Games, Maggie Blackstone and Vidarr Yggdraval!"

The crowd goes into timid applause for the two completely misfit volunteers from District 2. Maggie shakes my hand with a tight grip, and I realize that I was just reaped into the Games. And I have trouble believing it was incidental.

I guess the fun part will be seeing the strings Snow had to pull to get me, a boy from District 2 who did not go to the Academy and never wanted to be in the Games, to go into the Arena completely against his will.

I laugh a little bit, trying to focus on that instead of the impending death.

Yeah, I suppose being one of the Capitol's top assassins as a teen was a lot of pressure, and very life-or-death, but I felt prepared for that and had the talent and the mentality for it at the time. Now, though, it's completely the opposite.

I walk back to the Justice Building, a lump forming in my throat.

.

My first visitor comes in on crutches, his leg wrapped up tightly in bandages, wearing a golden laurel crown.

"Huh?"

"You were reaped."

"Y-Yeah." I try to hold it together.

"You're going into the Games."

"It was supposed to be you," I observe, "But…."

"Some Peacekeeper was firing practice shots and fired while drawing his pistol back. Incompetent," he growls. "My leg is practically shattered and they wouldn't even let me come to see you. I came to make sure you know that you have to uphold the honor of your District." He puts the golden laurel crown on my head, and my stomach turns uncomfortably.

"Good luck, Kid. Have fun living out my dream." He crutches out of the room, and I can see he's bleeding through his bandages.

Ashe is the next to visit. I have a feeling she'll be the only.

Seeing her come in, so dark, and sad, by herself, makes me start to panic. I feel short of breath, my heart beats harder, my vision blurs, trying to imagine Ash without me, trying to figure out how I might possibly live without her, how horrid of a husband I would be if I left her to fight for herself without me… It's too much, these thoughts are too much to bear.

I always thought about how my past might bite me in the ass. I stayed awake thinking about when it might happen. But, in the happiness of the times recently, I had completely forgotten all about it and expected the Capitol to do the same.

No. They never got over it. They just wanted to find the perfect moment to humiliate both of us and have their revenge.

"Ashe, this is all because of me, I'm sorry, I didn-I didn't kn-ow wh-wha-what would happen I didn't th-ink ta-that this would hap-hap-happen t-to m-e," I don't really remember how to speak out of fear and grief, I gasp for air, I can feel myself panicking.

Ashe wraps her arms gently around my neck. "You'll be okay," she whispers, her voice perfectly steady and gentle, "You have lots of strengths the other tributes don't. You have experience. If you keep your head clear and your incentives in your head, you can make it home. Vi, I love you. Vi, you can come home, okay? I know you can come home.

"I love you too, Ashe," I say, putting in a conscience effort not to stutter. It's the only thing I'm sure of anymore. Ashe holds me and I hug her back, shaking and gasping, feeling her breathe, gently and calmly, and steadily. I let her bring me back with it.

She kisses me one last time (not even minding how sick she is, does that even matter anymore?), and then wraps her gray scarf around my neck.

"I need you to come home to me," she whispers. I nod.

.

 _Maggie_

My mother and sister are the first to visit me.

My Mom takes me into a tight hug, her face sad and desolate but trying to control her tears. "We need you here, Maggie," she whispers. "We're already missing your father…" a lump forms in my throat, "We can't lose you too." She doesn't ask me why I volunteered or try to guilt-trip me for it, which I appreciate. I don't know if I could tell her why I did it.

I get on my knees to be Sammie's height. "I'm going away," I say.

"Mommy said…" she says, sounding confused. "Why?"

"I'm going to play a game. But I'll be back soon."

"Why did you volunteer to play the game Maggie?"

I smile a little bit. "Because I want to win the prize. Don't worry, I'll be back soon, and things will change for the better." I kiss the top of the head, "I love you, Princess."

"I love you too," she giggles.

I stand back up to face my mother. "Make sure Dad's dagger never leaves your sight. I couldn't stand anything happening to it while I'm gone." I wish I could've taken my father's dagger as a token, but it's a weapon, which wouldn't be allowed. It's going to be hard to spend these couple weeks without wearing it around my waist, which is how I always remember my father. She nods, agreeing to watch it.

I hug and kiss my mother one last time. "I love you," she says.

"I love you too, Mom. See you in a few weeks."

Hannah is the next and last person to visit. She wraps her arms around me, holding me close, burying her face in my neck.

"Why?" she asks quietly, sniffling a little bit.

"I had to. Don't worry, though. I'm trained. I'm a fighter. I have you, the most perfect and beautiful girl in the whole District, the whole _world_ to come back to."

She sighs quietly, nuzzling my neck, pressing her soft lips to the skin gently.

She only pulls back to put a necklace around my neck. "This is from generations of my family to you." It's a little, jade turtle, and it's quite pretty. "Never forget me," she whispers quietly, looking into my eyes (which makes my knees weak she's so beautiful).

"I'll never forget. Thank you."

"God, I love you," she says, her sweet, soft lips enclosing mine in a gentle kiss, which I'm eager to return. I savor every feeling, every taste, every touch… She pulls back much too soon.

"I love you too."

She's escorted out of the room.

Before I know it, Vienna and some Peacekeepers collect myself and my District partner from our rooms and escort us onto the train that will take us to the Capitol.

 _ **A/N: This was another long one. I just really like these characters! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I liked to write it, it was quite fun. All the opportunities for fluff!**_

 _ **There are lots of mentors/escorts open so please check those out if you're interested! Also, some SYOTS for you to check out and give love and tributes to: The Price We Pay by The Awesome Novice Writer and The 149**_ _ **th**_ _ **Games-Chessboard by epictomguy. Those should both be updated fairly consistently :)**_

 _ **Chapter Question: To my D2 submitters: How did you like your characters? To everyone else: Who did you like more and why?**_

 _ **Scores (alphabetized for more convenience!):**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 26**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 31**_

 _ **Dreamer: 237**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 36**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 46**_

 _ **epictomguy: 14**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 22**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 134**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 2**_

 _ **Jess: 251**_

 _ **Josephm611: 32**_

 _ **Kate: 193**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 16**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 77**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 16**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 20**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 31**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 75**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 31**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 12**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Sinfonian Legend: 275**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 11**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 31**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 36**_


	5. D3 Reaping

_-Cyra Hensley, 18- HogwartsDreamer113-_

My mother wakes me up. At first, I'm confused as to what she's doing home, but then I remember why.

It's reaping day.

My parents are both hard workers. My Mom's a teacher, Dad's an engineer. They're usually out working, but today the whole District shuts down for the reaping. I realize that two tributes have already volunteered; the District One reaping happened fifteen minutes ago, which means the District 2 reaping should be starting in fifteen minutes. Which means that I have about forty-five minutes until the District 3 reaping.

"You let me sleep in," I say, rubbing the wavy blonde hair out of my eyes.

My Mom's dull blue eyes, similar to my own, smile at me. "You deserved a break sweetie," she says, kissing the top of my head. "But you'd better hurry if you want to see Lennon before the reaping."

Of course I do. I get out of bed and get dressed. My mother helps me into my simple reaping dress and I put on a pair of flats as my mother helps me do my hair. She fastens a clip to hold my bangs back from my eyes, shaped like a bouquet of roses. I got it as a gift when I turned 18 from my boyfriend. I was flustered because the present was so nice, but he insisted I take it.

Together, we go down to the kitchen, where my father sits at the table, looking like he just woke up (which he probably did). He looks kind of bothered that the District shut down. He's very much a workaholic, and he's out more than he's here.

"Good morning dad," I say.

"Mhm," he grunts, bent over some blueprints with his breakfast and running a hand through his blond hair. I know he's trying to figure out how to make this blueprint work. I grab a small bagel for breakfast on my way out the door.

"Cyra!" I turn around when my mother calls me. "Are you going to visit your brother?"

"Yeah, I was going to stop by. Why?"

"Could you deliver something to him for me?"

"Sure."

She goes off to find something in her big stacks of papers, eventually coming back with a little rattle she got for a discount at the pawn shop. "Give this to him. To Greg, from Grandma. Alright?"

"Of course." My mom hugs me and kisses me on the cheek. "Come find me after the reaping before you run off with Lennon. Alright?"

I smile. "Sure thing, Mom."

"Good luck," she says. I nod and go off to my brother's house.

When I knock on the door, Rachelle opens. "Cyra!" she says, "What a nice surprise!" She takes me into a hug and I hug her back. My sister-in-law and I are on very good terms. She's a very sweet person.

"Please, come in!" she says, ushering me inside. It's a pretty modest place, but still cozy and homely. I walk into the living room and find my brother, in full reaping attire, holding my two-month-old nephew on his lap and rocking him gently.

"Hey," I say.

"Morning sis," he says, relaxing across the couch with the baby in his lap. "How are you?"

"Pretty good," I say, sitting next to him.

"How's _Leeeeeeeeennon_?" he asks, drawing out the word in the voice of a teasing schoolgirl.

I sigh, but smile. "He's good. Can't wait for me to be done with reapings."

"I can't wait either," he says, reaching over with one hand to ruffle my hair. I laugh quietly.

"Want to hold Greg?" he asks, already knowing what my answer will be.

"Of course," I say, smiling and taking the baby, who blinks up at me, sucking on his fingers. He looks like Isaac, with gentle eyes that are the same dull blue as mine and his father's. I smile and rock him gently. Lennon and I have often been babysitters for them when Rachelle goes out to work and try to make some extra money for them. We're fairly well-off as compared to many others in the District, but it's still not luxurious to live around here.

I hand the rattle to Greg. "There was a discount in the pawn shop," I say. "Mom wanted me to give this to you for whenever he can start to grab and play with toys."

"Tell her thanks," Isaac says, smiling. "I'm sure he'll love it when he's able to play with it. Until them, I'm sure it'll make him laugh when we shake it."

"You can tell her thanks when you see her at the reaping."

His face falls, as if he'd forgotten that the reaping is today. "Oh. Yeah, right."

In this dreary, dark, smoggy District, it's nice to see such tender, sweet things as this little baby. If you can't tell, I've been excited about being an aunt ever since Rachelle announced she was pregnant.

I check the time and realize that I only have twenty minutes until the reaping. I gently hand the baby back to my brother. "I promised I'd see Lennon and Tess before the reaping."

"Alright. I'll talk to you later, little sis. I hug him around the calm baby. I give Rachelle another hug before I leave and start to where I know Lennon will be waiting for me.

I see his familiar dirty blond hair and my heart beats slightly harder. I can't remove the smile from my face as he picks me up in a hug. "Hey," I say quietly.

"Hey," he says, letting me go. Lucky Lennon has been out of the reaping 2 years. Poor him, though, because now he has to be worried for me. He looks slightly nervous.

"It's my last year," I say, kissing him gently. "You made it all 6 years, so will I. There are a lot of girls in the District."

"Alright." He's so good at being patient, especially with our relationship. It's hard to wait for the reaping to be over, though. It's hard to wait for assured safety from the Games. After all, right now, my safety's still hanging in the air. I'm trying not to worry too much, though.

I take his hand and squeeze it.

"You're wearing your clip," he says, smiling.

"Of course! It's beautiful," I say, at his familiar brown eyes and feeling so much better.

"Just like you," he says, kissing my temple.

I roll my eyes but laugh. "Smooth."

"Just like me," he says, grinning.

I look at him, reliving the fond memories we've shared so far, hoping for many more fond memories to come. We walk together for a while, in silence, but a comfortable silence. Soon, crowds start to fill up the square, and I see my best friend Tesla approaching so we can go into the reaping together, since we both belong in the 18 section for girls.

She comes over to us, smiling at Lennon. "Hi Lennon," she says.

"Hey," he greets.

"Ready to go Cyra?" she asks.

"As ready as I'm going to be," I sigh. I give Lennon one last kiss. "See you after," I say. "My mom wanted me to find her, but I'll find you right after. Want to meet by the pawn shop?"

"Sounds like a plan." He gives me another kiss, and I savor the feeling of his smile. Then, with one last wave, he goes to the audience area. Tess and I walk to the reaping together, making quiet small-talk.

"How's Greg?" she asks, as the lady pricks our fingers.

"He's good," I say, smiling. "As cute and sweet as ever."

"That's good."

I nod as we go to the 18 section. "Mom was able to get a rattle for cheap."

"Really? That's awesome!" I nod.

We find other friends within the group of girls and stand with them as the reaping begins with the mayor reading the damn Treaty of Treason.

The escort is the same one that's been there ever since I was 12. Lennon says that her first year was when he was 12, eight years ago. Her hair is dark purple and perfectly wavy, and with white gemstones by her eyes. Her dress is long and dark indigo, making her look even more slender and tall.

"Good morning, District 3," she says, her voice gentle but also loud enough to be heard easily. "And welcome to the reaping for the 84th annual Hunger Games! I am your escort, Elizabeth Ponds, and I bring to you a special video straight from the Capitol!" She turns to the screen, a gentle smile on her face as the video starts to play.

It's the same video I've been watching for 6 years. I actually payed attention when I was 12, but from then, I never cared. It's the same thing every year, after all. Watching it isn't going to make you less likely to be reaped. Maybe if it did people would actually care.

The video ends as the last note of the Capitol anthem fades away. Elizabeth waits patiently for all the sound to fizzle away into silence before she smiles brightly, her eyes surveying the crowd. "So, without further ado, let's choose our brave young man and woman that will represent their District in the Hunger Games!" She smiles and walks to the girl's bowl, her high heels clicking on the stage as she goes.

She gets all the way to the bowl before she remembers to say, "Of course, I'll select the young woman first." She reaches her hand into the bowl, swishing around the papers, taking her time. I reach over and take Tess's hand, squeezing it. She squeezes my hand back.

She's been my best friend since we were only 6 years old, we're practically sisters. I just really need her support right now, bracing myself for the worst but hoping the odds will be in my favor.

Elizabeth picks a slip of paper, making her way slowly back to the microphone and leaving all of us in suspense. She clears her throat. "Cyra Hensley!"

Tess squeezes my hand tighter, and suddenly things start to come crashing down on me. I realize that I'm going to go into the Hunger Games, I was so assured I'm safe, I didn't take time to enjoy my time with friends and family, I didn't do so much…

"Come on up, Cyra, don't be shy!" Elizabeth says. Tesla lets go of my hand. I start on my way to the stage, trying not to cry. I hold in the tears, going up the stairs and joining Elizabeth on the stage.

"Very nice," she says, with a pat on the shoulder. I see Lennon in the crowd, his face buried in his hands, and that's when I can no longer control the tears. I can't believe I'm leaving him… I can't believe I'm going into the Games… The tears roll down my cheeks, and I try to stop them but to no avail. Elizabeth's dark blue eyes look at me in pity, patting my shoulder gently before she goes to select the male tribute. She picks a slip quickly this time, going back to the microphone while I try to control my tears in front of the entire nation. I see my face on the big screen and more tears come from humiliation.

"Ductor Romilly!" I recognize that name. Suddenly, I remember why. He has an older sister… Yes, and she's my age. This is her last reaping. She's safe. I wipe my eyes to find my District partner, but his journey to the stage is delayed as well. "Ductor? Ductor?" she asks impatiently. Finally a boy comes from the 15-year-old section, wiping at his eyes as he walks up the stage. By the time I see him up close, though, his face is set like stone in a tough expression. _Better than I did_ , I think despairingly. I notice that he has a scar on his lip and wonder what may have caused it. I start to worry, then scold myself for worrying.

"Very nice, very nice! Now, shake hands, you two!" she brings us closer together. Ductor puts out a hand to me, and I shake it, trying not to be timid or weepy.

"Everyone, your District 3 tributes!" The District goes into timid applause.

~.~.

 _-Ductor Romilly, 15- Kate-The-Great-And-Powerful-_

Edie shakes me to wake me up. When I wake up I see her auburn hair and smile. I sit up and rub my eyes.

"Morning."

"Morning."

I get out of bed, stretching and yawning.

"It's reaping day."

"Unfortunately."

She smiles, but it looks pained. "It's your last," I say.

"So it is."

I get out of bed. She looks up at something. "Oh, that must be Bet." She walks out of the room quickly to tend to her child.

Meanwhile, I stretch and start to get ready for the reaping. _Lucky Edie_ , I think. _After this year, she's safe from the Games. Maybe not safe from starvation and factory work and harsh District life, but she's safe from the Games. I'm sure Dana will be pleased._

Dana is my half-sister's boyfriend, and also the father of Bet. We were truly worried when she went into labor, afraid her 17-year-old body couldn't handle it, but she stayed strong. Bet's a whole year old now. Edie always used to say how lucky it was I couldn't hear his cries so I actually got sleep when he was younger.

Oh, yeah, I guess that's something that's kind of important. I've been mostly deaf since I was 10 years old. I mean, it was my own fault, in a way, came from a gnarly injury I got while doing what I loved the most: ice skating. The shabby excuses for ponds that are here freeze over nicely when the winter weather gets cold. My friends and I like to go out and skate around as much as possible through the winter. That's how I bashed my head so good I lost my hearing. Or, well, most of it.

My family was able to find some old books on sign language, so we're fairly fluent after five years of learning it. And for the signs we don't know, we just improvise. I've learned to read lips well enough over these past years that I can make out what people are saying, even when all I hear is blurred or faint sounds.

Another ice skating injury left its impact, a scar on my lip. It's not too drastic but it's at least somewhat noticeable up close. I look in the small mirror we have and run a finger across the scar. Other than that, I can't say I'm very cool or impressive. I have dark hair and brown eyes, and am overwhelmingly average. I adjust my hair and go back to my room to get dressed for the reaping.

I wear an average outfit, not wanting too much attention to be drawn to me if I can avoid it. Lately, I've been in such a… rut. I think it's because I've just realized that my being deaf has affected how I speak. Because I can't hear my own words, I must be speaking with some kind of lisp. That's why I haven't really wanted to talk… I don't like having people notice that I'm different. I can't really help it now, but I try to read lips and speak normally.

I go out to the kitchen where my half-sister is bouncing Bet on her leg, feeding him breakfast. He smiles when he sees me, putting up his chubby arms.

"Hi," I say, patting his head and smiling.

My mother comes out into the kitchen. She was once married, but her husband, Edie's father, left her because I wasn't his.

"Morning Mom," says Edie, and I nod good morning.

"Morning," she says, smiling at us.

"Any news on my father?" I ask her, curious. My father is a very cool man, according to my mother. She loved him very deeply, but before I was born, he was sent off to work in District 5, and she hasn't heard from him since. It doesn't stop me from asking, though.

"Get your breakfast so you can catch Volt before it's reaping time," Edie suggests, signing as best as she can with the baby on her lap.

"Good idea," I say, grabbing a quick bite to eat before going out the door. I head to my usual meeting spot with my best friend Volt, silently praying that Ampere isn't with him. Ampere is my best friend's girlfriend, one year older than us at 16. I used to really like Ampere, but lately there's just been something about her mannerisms that sends me into a deep abyss of self-doubt.

She was the one that commented on how "I couldn't have even been able to tell you were deaf if it wasn't for how you talked!" That's what made me start to wonder how I actually sounded. I didn't think I talked any different than anyone else. It's starting to make me doubt how normal I actually seem. Everybody knows I'm different.

I see the distinct red hair of my best friend and am relieved to find that his girlfriend isn't with him. I really wanted some alone time with him before the reaping.

"Hey!" he says, waving, and I smile at him. I feel totally comfortable around Volt, and he's the only person I feel like I could chat with forever. I'm surprised that he lets me go on so much, really. I haven't exactly told him how Ampere's made me feel, because I didn't want to cause any trouble or anything.

"What's up?" I ask with an impromptu sign. Not even Edie knows the sign language Volt and I use. Unfortunately for me, though, Ampere does know, because we were really close when we all created the language. I wish I liked Amp more, especially because she means the word to Volt. I just can't like her more, not with how she makes me feel. Maybe I'm just overreacting.

"Not much. Your sister's done with reapings after this year, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is."

"Yeah, that's good. Really good. I really hope she isn't picked. I hope I'm not picked. I hope you're not picked either. And, of course I hope that Amp isn't picked. Man, Amp… I really love Amp. Without her, I don't know where I'd be. I wouldn't be myself." I really wish he'd dump her, but I don't want to tell him that.

Maybe it's just because I don't understand love. I never have. I mean, yeah, I understand the love of family. I love my family, my sister and nephew and mother, I love them all dearly. And I love my best friend, Volt, but not in… A romantic way. Romance has never really made sense to me. I see it everywhere and yet I don't sympathize with those who go off about romance. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I just haven't found someone yet. I'm only 15, after all. Maybe something went wrong and I broke. Who knows?

Volt babbles and rambles on and on all about Amp and how much he loves Amp. _Amp is so perfect, and so sweet all the time, and she really looks out for me. Doesn't she look out for us Ductor?_ Whatever.

Maybe someday I'll understand how he feels. The thought doesn't really seem that appealing to me. Oh well. Maybe one day I'll find someone and everything will come into color. Maybe then I won't be as broken.

I'm 15, I have time to figure it out. That is… Unless I get reaped. Then I really won't have a lot of time. And if I don't get reaped, I'll have until next year before my life is on the line again.

Ampere appears seemingly out of nowhere just then. "Hey you!" she says, hugging Volt and kissing him. "Oh, hi Ductor."

"Hi," I sign. Ever since she commented about my weird speech, I haven't really wanted to talk. No matter how muddily and distantly her voice sounds, I still don't like hearing it. I don't like seeing her. I feel like I constantly have to be on-guard for another one of her comments that sounds innocent but keeps me up at night wishing I weren't so special.

"I'll meet you at the reaping," I say to Volt, trying to keep a light, friendly countenance.

"Oh, okay! Bye!"

"Good luck at the reaping Ductor!" Ampere says, using the sign language we made up before waving. I quickly leave there.

I get to the Square early, but don't really mind. I get my blood taken without having to wait in line and go into the 15 section for boys, where a couple of guys my age are already waiting. I don't talk to them, though, because I don't really know them well and I'm fairly insecure. I wait for a bit, twiddling my thumbs. Soon, more and more people start to arrive. Volt appears behind me, looking over-the-moon.

"Ampere's so sexy," he says. I don't really get it. I mean, I get it but I don't get why it's so important to Volt's happiness. There are a lot of things I don't get, I guess.

Soon, the reaping begins when the mayor begins to read from the Treaty of Treason. After that, the escort takes the stage. She wears a dark blue dress with gemstones like the sky, and smiles kindly at us. Volt said her name is Elizabeth Ponds. I can't read her lips from here, and the video flashes by in colors with sound that sounds like I'm simultaneously underwater and at the end of a long tunnel. I can't make anything out except for what might be music (?). Volt looks towards the girls, searching for Ampere.

Elizabeth keeps talking but I can't hear what she's saying. After a great delay, she picks a name from the glass bowl that I'm pretty sure is for girls. There's a delay before a girl emerges from the 18-year-olds. She has blonde hair, but that's really all I can see from here. When her face comes up on the big screen, she looks alright for having just been reaped. Once she gets up on the stage, though, tears come to her eyes. _Poor girl._

The escort pats her on the back before going over to the glass bowl meant for boys. She takes much less time to pick a name. I wait to see which one of us has been reaped, but nobody's moving. Some people pause and then start to turn around. Volt's eyes are wide and look horrified. He taps me on the shoulder and his eyes convey what he doesn't want to say to me.

Tears come to my eyes at realizing that I've been chosen to fight in the Games. Tears come out of my eyes as I walk up to the stage and realize that millions of people are watching me. I'm passing the 18-year-olds when I dry my eyes and set my expression in stone, walking up the stairs and trying to feign calmness.

"Shake hands, you two!" The escort is now close enough that I can read what she's saying. My District partner (I didn't hear her name) looks like she's trying hard to fight the tears. I put out my hand and she shakes it. Before I know it, we're being escorted back into the Justice Building.

.

I sit alone and my mother comes in first, crying. She takes me into a tight hug, and I can feel her shaking. She lets me go, her face red as tears stream down her cheeks.

"You have to win," she says and signs. "You have to win."

"I'm going to do my best." It's all I can promise. I'm already at a disadvantage because I'm young and mostly deaf, but I still have to try.

She pulls me into another hug, kissing my cheek, hugging me tightly. I hug her back, savoring these possible last moments with my mother.

"Ductor, I have to tell you something," she says, signing at the same time and biting her lip nervously. "Your father isn't really gone at District 5. The truth is that…" She stares at the floor. "I don't know who he is."

My heart sinks into my stomach. The news hurts. I always thought my father was someone impactful and important, especially in the life of my mother. I always thought that one day I could be as cool as him. But it was all a lie. The truth is that we really don't know who he is. He could be anyone.

"Oh…"

"Please don't be mad at me, Ductor… I'm sorry for lying to you. I just wanted to make you feel better."

"It's fine…" My heart sits uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach. I can't believe she held the lie from the time I was so young…

She hugs me again, a hug that I half-heartedly return. "I'm sorry, Ductor. I love you."

"Love you too." The Peacekeepers escort her out.

Edie comes in next, holding Bet on her hip.

"Hey," she says, hugging me around the baby. She puts Bet on my lap, and the baby curls into my stomach.

"You're going to win, right?" Edie asks me.

"I'm going to try." I'm not going to tell her I'm going to win if I'm not even confident in myself.

"That's all I can ask of you, little brother. I love you, Ductor. I love you so much." She hugs me again, around the baby, and Bet snuggles against my stomach, feeling warm and soft. I feel horrible about everything, about the fact that this is happening and the fact that I have no self-confidence… I just feel really bad.

"I love you too," I tell my sister. I kiss the top of Bet's head. "And I love you too, Bet. You be good. Make sure to _bet_ on me." I laugh at my own joke. "Get it? Bet?"

My sister has tears in her eyes, but she laughs. "Of course you'd make a joke at a time like this," Edie says, smiling.

"I can't leave you sad," I say, even though I know she's going to be sad and there's nothing I can do about it.

"I love you Ductor. You have to come home."

"Love you too, Edie. I'm going to try my very best." Edie leaves.

The last one to visit is Volt. He comes without Amp, which is a relief to me.

"No Ampere?" I ask him. I wonder why she wouldn't come- oh wait, it's because she doesn't like me!

"It was too painful for her," Volt says and signs.

"Are you really sure about that?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow.

"Dude, lay off. She was really devastated and she didn't want you to see her so devastated. She cares about you."

Sure. "Alright, sorry."

"I'm going to miss you while you're gone. Come back home, alright?"

"I'm going to go into that Arena and I'm going to do my very best." I feel comfortable talking around Volt, so I use less sign language.

"That's all I can ask of you, man. Good luck. We'll be rooting for you back here and waiting for you to come back." He gives me a hug that I return.

"Thanks."

"Oh, that reminds me." He takes his only and favorite watch of his wrist and holds it out to me. "Take this."

I look at the watch, shaking my head. "No way. What if I die?"

"You think the watch is gonna be what I care about if you reel over?"

"Are you really sure?"

"Yes. I'm really sure. Take it."

"If you're sure…" I take the watch. "Thanks."

He gives me one last hug. "Love you, man. You know."

"Yeah, I know. Love you too."

He walks out.

~.~.

 _Cyra_

The first to visit is my family. My mother hugs me immediately, letting out a sob. "My baby! My Cyra!" She hugs me tightly, and her tears make me start to cry again. She hugs me tightly, my Dad standing on the other side, looking sad.

My mother strokes my hair and holds onto me tightly, crying and sobbing.

When she finally lets go of me, Isaac hugs me tightly, fighting tears himself. Rachelle passes off Greg to Isaac before giving me a hug. Isaac hands me Greg and lets me hold him. The baby is sleeping peacefully, and my tears drip onto his stomach.

"You have to come home, Cyra," Isaac says. "You just have to. We can't go on without you."

"I have a shot," I say. "I'm 18. I can make it." I'm never going to give up. I hand Greg back to Rachelle who gives me one last hug, but I hug Isaac and kiss him on the cheek one last time. Then I hug my father, who hugs me back though awkwardly. And my mother latches onto me, sobbing.

"I love you all so much," I say.

"We love you too," Isaac says.

"So much," Rachelle adds. My mother sobs, "I love you, Cyra…"

Soon, the Peacekeepers force them all to leave, my mother going with pained sobs. My heart breaks.

Lennon comes next, and as soon as he comes in I throw my arms around him, sobbing. He hugs me back tightly, burying his face in my shoulder.

"Cyra… Sh… Listen to me Cyra… You can do this."

"Everyone's going to be watching me," I cry quietly. "Even… Them-"

"Cyra, listen to me. You can't think of that. Remember that I'll be with you every step of the way. I'll be rooting for you, alright? I love you. Think of me."

"I love you!" I say, hugging him tightly. "I love you so much…"

He kisses the top of my head. "I love you too." He kisses me and I kiss back, and before I know it, he's gone too.

Tess comes in last, along with some of our other friends. I get hugs all around.

"Cyra, you can do this," Tess says, and my other friends agree. "You're capable. You're not hopeless. You're strong and independent, and you can do this. Please, don't count yourself out. Don't underestimate your own strength. Promise that no matter what you do you don't ever give up and underestimate yourself."

"I promise." I hug all of them, and we do a big group hug, many of them crying. Tess tries to keep a straight face, fending off the tears.

"Love you," she says, drying the tears off my face and pulling me into a hug. "Be strong. Fight. Don't let them get to you, alright?"

"I promise I won't. Love you too." They're escorted out.

Elizabeth gathers me and Ductor and soon, we're speeding away from the gray smog of District 3 and on our way to the Capitol.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Holy fuck! This story has four chapters and over fifty reviews!? You guys are so generous with your reviews and I have to say I absolutely love it! I appreciate your reviews so much, even if I don't respond to them individually. I still can't believe that this story has so many reviews, but I honestly can't thank you guys enough for continuing to tell me what you think. It serves as a great incentive to get out chapters faster.**_

 _ **Also, another thing. To my outer District peeps: Don't worry, alright? Because there's no way in hell I'm going to half-ass this story and you bet your butt I'm going to see it out to the very end. I know the pain of submitting an outer-District tribute and having their POV never be seen, but this SYOT is NOT dying. Alright? Alright. Just wanted to let you know.**_

 _ **Also, if you like SYOTs, check out my profile! In my list of tributes I've submitted to SYOTs (some of you will probably recognize them because I recognize you guys on other SYOTs), you can find some really awesome SYOTs that are still accepting! One in particular that still has spots open is Where There's a Will by Hannah the Scribe. It's REALLY good and only two spots are left so please consider submitting and reviewing and giving them lots of love. Another one that needs tributes is**_ _ **Crimson Never Dies: 56th Annual Hunger Games (SYOC)**_ __ _ **by GenuineHarajukuDoll. There are plenty of others on my profile, so please check out the list if you like submitting to SYOTs!**_

 _ **This is a lot of text. Oh well. Christmas break approaches, so hopefully the District 4 reapings will be out soon. My other baby right now is a partial SYOT for the 36**_ _ **th**_ _ **Games, and we're in the final 4 now so I'm rotating between that story and this one. If you want to get a shit-ton of points, read 36 and review it! It's just getting intense!**_

 _ **Also, there are still a few mentor/escort spots left that I'd like to fill! So if you're bored, check those out. They don't take too long to fill out.**_

 _ **Alright, that's all I have to say even though it's like half a page.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Same story. To my lovely D3 submitters: What did you think of your tributes? To everyone else: Which one stood out to you more and why?**_

 _ **Scores:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 26**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 31**_

 _ **Dreamer: 257**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 46**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 56**_

 _ **epictomguy: 14**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 22**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **FlawlessCatastrophe: 12**_

 _ **xGred-Forgex: 21**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 154**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 12**_

 _ **Jess: 321**_

 _ **Josephm611: 42**_

 _ **Kate: 243**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 97**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 16**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 20**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 41**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 75**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 41**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 17**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 10**_

 _ **Sinfonian Legend: 295**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 11**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 5**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 31**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 46**_

 _ **Thanks so much for your reviews, support, and time! If I don't update again, Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!**_


	6. D4 Reaping

_-Serafina Anya Lecter, 17-_ _Xx-Katerina-xX-_

Ohen was the one sent to wake me up. He flicks the lights on of my bedroom, causing me to groan and bury my face in my pillow.

"It's time to get up!" he says cheerfully. My 14-year-old brother pulls the covers off of me, the cold hitting my body and making me want nothing more than the warmth of being covered. "Time to get out of bed Serafina Anya! It's reaping day!"

He says it so cheerfully. He doesn't know. I sit up and rub my eyes. My brother's black hair, usually messy, is combed down all neat, or as neat as it can be. His eyes are bright. "Hurry up or else I'm going to have to pour a bucket of seawater on you!

I get out of bed, stretching with a yawn. My little brother goes bounding back to the kitchen, all while I go to the bathroom to get ready.

I wash my face, brush my teeth, comb my hair, black like my brothers. I pull my hair back into a wavy ponytail. I look in the mirror and put on some make-up, glancing at my brown eyes as I put on some eyeliner. I tie a white ribbon around my wrist, to keep for later. When that's done, I step into a dress, the news replaying in my head.

" _Serafina Anya, it has come to the attention of the trainers that the female volunteer for District 4 is dropping out due to an injury. You are number two in training. The opportunity is yours to volunteer for the Games. It is essential that District 4 have two volunteers as we hope to become a permanent Career District in the near future." I nodded and smiled, of course. After all, volunteering is a privilege and an honor. I should be pleased to volunteer._

 _I told my best friends the news, and I was beaming. Lowell hugged me tight and beamed with congratulations, Camilla said something inappropriate but was happy for me, Sessa tripped over her own feet in an excited effort to hug me. My mother and step-father gave me hugs and congratulations. My older sister Vandala was impressed, Ohen was bouncing off the walls._

The truth is, I don't want to volunteer. Not at all. I never liked the Games, really. And seeing that malicious Diesel Bundren on my television, promising that these Games would be the most dramatic, troublesome, violent Games the Capitol's ever seen, isn't helping.

I put on a short, puffy green dress with a sweetheart neckline, and put on a nice silver necklace to match my silver wedges. I go to the kitchen for breakfast.

Vandala is in the kitchen, waiting for me. She has a plate with a crepe on it, topped with some fresh fruit of all things, waiting for me. I take it gratefully and sit down to eat. Ohen scarfs down a generous helping of food before putting his plate in the sink and running to the door.

"Where are you off to so fast?" I ask, but I already know.

"Shut up," he says, his tan face going red with embarrassment.

"Tell Evie I said hi," I tell him, smiling, trying to get rid of the heavy weight resting in my stomach.

Vandala doesn't look as amused with our fun and games. She's ready to be her own person.

"Okay, okay," he says, running out the door. His girlfriend Evie is so sweet, she's a year older than him at 15. I like the girl quite a lot, and their young love is cute. I know he wants to spend lots of time with her before the reaping, even if there isn't a fear of either of them getting reaped.

I eat with Vandala, who keeps mature conversation. "How's your next routine going?" she asks me.

I think about it, smiling. "It's going well. I'm still working on the choreography, but it should go well." I'm a dancer by nature. I've been dancing since I could toddle, though I didn't start properly taking lessons until age 4. Thanks to my practicing ballet, I'm both strong and flexible, which helps more than you'd expect in Training.

"Nice."

"How's your next masterpiece?" I ask her.

"Still in the works. I need to go to Artisan and see if there's more red paint there."

"Ah, I see." I smile. My sister is a painter, her favorite subject being the countryside. We don't really have much experience with it, but she's a very creative, clever person that has a lot of artistic vision. Since we're really quite fortunate, we can express ourselves.

Next year, Vandala will be 21 years old, and she'll be ready to move out and get her own small place. _Next year, I could be dead._ Yeah, I try to avoid that thought.

I have to keep a smile on my face through this whole thing, as is the usual. I'm a very positive, bubbly person. When people need a smile, they come to me. I couldn't burden anyone with my problems. It wouldn't be right of me.

I finish my breakfast and rinse off my plate. Vandala puts her plate in the sink as well as our mother and step-father come out of their bedroom, dressed nicely in their reaping clothes.

"Good morning, my Beauties," says Stan, hugging Vandala and then me, and we greet him.

Mom hugs Vandala and then gives me a tight hug. "My volunteer," she says, hugging me tighter. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks," I say, trying to fend off the sense of dread in my stomach. I really don't like this feeling of nerves and of dread. I swallow hard, keeping the laidback, casual smile on my face.

"I want to go catch the others before my reaping," I say, keeping my same, cheerful tone of voice.

"Oh, of course." Mom kisses the top of my head. "Good luck. Smile pretty. Stand tall."

"I will," I promise. Then, with one last wave to my family, I leave the house and make my way to the beach to meet my friends.

On any other day, District 4 citizens would be shot for having recreational time on the beach. But, since it's reaping day, the beach is open to all. The summer sun is already bright and hot. Some groups of people are meeting on the beach, and I don't stop until I find a group of my besties hanging out by the water.

"Serafina Anya!" Lowel shouts, waving his scrawny arms at me. I smile at my friends and rush down the sand to meet them.

"Hey!" I greet my friends.

"Hi!" says Lowel, giving me a hug. I stay away from the water to prevent it from ruining my reaping clothes and make-up. Lowel is one year older than me, meaning this is his last reaping. He wasn't chosen to volunteer, but he doesn't mind. He's so happy-go-lucky and optimistic that the Games don't mean much to him.

"Aren't you excited!?" gushes Sessa. Sessa has the prettiest ginger hair ever, and though she gets flustered easily and often trips over herself, she's still so sweet and lovable. Sessa's actually closer to my brother's age than mine, at 15. She wears a loose-fitting dress because she's insecure of her body. She says she's fat, but she's not more than cutely chubby. She's adorable, but she doesn't see it. Hopefully someday soon.

"Yeah, of course!" I lie seamlessly. Nobody knows what I'm dealing with, all the negative emotions threatening to come out if prompted. I wouldn't want them to know, though.

"I'm so happy for you, Serafina Anya!" Lowel looks at me, admiration in his eyes.

"Me too!" says Sessa.

Camilla smirks at me, her shoes long-since abandoned on the shore and her feet in the water, not even minding if the waves accidentally graze the bottom of her dress. "Congrats, man," she says. "You're going to be the goddamned best tribute the Capitol's ever seen."

Sessa and Lowel exchange a look at Camilla's bad language. She swears often, and when she does we cringe, but we still care a lot for her. It's what friends do.

"You're going to the Capitol! You're going to be a star!" Lowel says. "That's awesome! I'll be able to say-" He strikes a dramatically thoughtful pose. " _Who, Serafina Anya? Well yeah, she was my best friend way back in the day!_ "

"We're going to be best friends even after I win," I tell him. "There will be none of this-" I make finger quotes- " _way back in the day_."

Sessa beams. Lowel shrugs, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Let's just enjoy this time together," I say. I want to have happy last memories with them. I'm not saying that they're for sure last memories, heavens no, because I am trained and strong. I'm just saying that right now I have to live like I'm dying. Just in case.

After some more fun and conversation, my friends and I get out of the water and walk to the reapings together. We stand in line together to get our fingers pricked. They take the blood from my finger and that pit of apprehension form in my stomach again. I know that if I don't volunteer, there will be a severe price to pay. Especially if a young girl is reaped.

My fate is sealed, but I try to keep calm and keep the smile on. First, we bid farewell to Lowel as he goes to the boys section and we go to the girls'. Camilla and I drop off Sessa in the section for 15-year-old girls before we walk together to the section for 17-year-old girls.

I start to get more and more nervous. I know that when the reaping starts, I'll have to volunteer. I'll have to be strong and powerful. As soon as the cameras start rolling, I'm going to be judged by the Capitol. I'll be competing for sponsors. I'll have to intimidate tributes. I have to prove why I can be a Victor.

Suddenly, the mayor begins to speak, and the time is now. I stand up taller. I ball up my hands into fists. I keep a determined look on my face, a smile (as is usual for me) but a powerful one instead of a friendly one.

The mayor stops talking and a video plays, a video with the Capitol anthem, and plenty of dramatic actors drying and feigning and pretending.

The escort takes the stage, an absolutely disgusting-looking man that's grossly overweight with blue hair, overly red lips, and no neck. He's a literal sphere save for his stubby legs, and you could roll him down a hill if you wanted to.

Hydra Ploughman. I always hoped I wouldn't have to deal with him, I'd never have to even think of communicating with him, but here I'm going to have to.

"Good morning District 4," he says, a smile on his face. "And welcome to the reaping for the 84th annual Hunger Games!" He smiles at us. The crowd applauds politely.

"So, without further ado, let's begin. First, I will pick our female tribute." He picks a piece of paper, clears his throat, and reads the name. I don't pay attention, everything starts to blur, it's time to be brave…

"I volunteer as tribute!" It doesn't sound as scared as I thought, which is good. I put my head up, keeping a smile on, and walk to the stage.

"Wonderful, just wonderful! Tell me, dear, what is your name?"

I clear my throat. "Serafina Anya Lecter," I say, flipping my ponytail over my shoulder.

"Very nice! And now for our male tribute!" Hydra waddles over to the male's bowl. He reaches into the bowl and picks out a name as everything becomes clear again. I look out into the crowd, see my family and friends, the many citizens of our District, all watching me.

Soon, I'm joined on stage by a tall boy with tan skin and bronze hair. His brown eyes stare at me, quietly, coldly. He seems detached from the people around him.

"Yes, and what's your name?"

When he speaks, his voice sounds dead. "Collin Glaucus."

"Oh, yes, wonderful! Everyone, your District 4 tributes, Serafina Anya Lecter and Collin Glaucus!" The District claps. I hold out my hand to Collin, who takes it and shakes it with a strong, choking grip.

We go back into the Justice Building.

~.~.

 _-Collin Glaucus, 17- A-Bookworm-Named-Steph-_

 _The boat is sinking. Waves rock it violently. Men are screaming: nine of them, plus me. My father is at the very head, giving commands._

" _We're going to keep this vessel afloat!" his voice booms, as he gives commands to others. Water spills over the safety railing, soaking up to my waist as the boat rocks._

" _Dad! What can I do?! Dad!?" He has a lot of other things to think about, but I want to help._

 _Suddenly, the boat shakes violently. Waves crash against the side. The sky is dark and there's a rumbling of thunder._

" _Get the rafts! Macentire, take Collin on the lifeboat! Abandon ship! We're sinking!"_

" _Dad! No!" I want to be with my father. I'm pulled off and things start to blur. "DAD!" I shout, not wanting to be taken with him. "NO!" We're loaded onto an inflatable lifeboat, me and one of my Dad's associates. "Row!" he shouts. "Row for your life!" The boat rocks and my vision blurs, but I row with what I have. Soon, Macentire is whisked off the lifeboat in a huge wave, and I try to find him but can't do it._

 _I keep rowing, vision blurred, focused on staying alive, trying to keep moving as it goes silent except for the sound of the ocean._

 _The ocean, which used to mean everything to you, my favorite toy, now turned against me._

 _I wash up on the beach, stumbling out on the boat and sprawling out on the dry land, the sand, exhausted, shouting with wails and tears and crying out, longing for my father and his crewmates to come back even though I know they're gone._

 _A group of people come to me, but I don't want to see them. I don't want to talk to them, I'm too overcome with grief. Their voices, all frantic, blur together, I can't hear what they're saying, I want my father back, I can't, I hate them, they're not letting me alone, I'm not answering their questions-_

 _I'm tackled to the ground by a boy a couple years older than I am, shouting at me, but his voice sounds like it's under water and in a faraway tunnel, I can't make sense of his words, I can't hear him, I can't hear anything, everything is blurred together…_

 _I feel a dull pain but I can't compute what's happening to me, all I know is that my father is gone, he's gone, my Dad is gone, I'm going to have to tell my little brother Tryin that Dad is gone, what am I going to do…?_

Uncle is the one that wakes me up from that horrible nightmare. I sit up, breathing heavy, tears dotting my eyes. I wipe them away, angry at myself for crying even if it was in my sleep.

That happened two years ago, but I haven't stopped reliving it since. Ever since that day I haven't been able to trust anything. I haven't wanted to trust anyone. I've closed myself off to protect myself. The walls I've built around my heart protect my emotions from pain like I felt that day.

I get out of bed slowly, going to the bathroom. I still walk with a bit of a limp from that day, when I was the only one of ten that washed up to shore and was practically delirious with grief. One of the brothers of the crewmates attacked me, and ever since I walk with a bit of a limp. I wash the tears from my face in the bathroom.

Just to add to the misery, I'm volunteering today. I have to win the Games and make something of myself. I was chosen and to say no would have consequences. I'm strong and a fighter, and I'm so closed-off… I have what it takes.

I get dressed in a nice shirt and pants, going downstairs where Tryin is waiting for me for breakfast.

"Collin!" he says, hugging me. I smile a bit and hug him back. My brother is only seven years old, and he's the most important thing I have. Everything I do, I do with him in mind. I need to win to get home to him, and so that we can live away from Uncle and burden him no longer.

I eat breakfast with Tryin when Uncle comes in. He looks sympathetic. He knows we're nothing but poor, sorry orphans. And yet he has compassion on us anyways.

"Did you enjoy your reaping breakfast?" Uncle asks.

"Yeah!" says Tryin enthusiastically. I nod curtly. "Thank you." I don't want to have another relationship like I had with my father if I can help it. The world out there is just too cruel for love. You love someone who loves you back, and then tragedy strikes and who's left alone? You are. _I_ am.

I've been hurt too much to open up again. I don't even treat my friends the same way.

The cousins come downstairs for breakfast, chatting up a storm. Tryin is soon dragged into the conversation, giggling and chattering with the other five boys. I just can't make myself be that loud, fun-loving kid anymore. That died when I lost my father.

With a quick goodbye to Tryin, I leave the house. I see groups of people walking to beach, happy that this is the only day it's open to the public to enjoy. I immediately get tense as the horrible memories come back, and I turn the other way.

Nowadays, I avoid going to the beach. The ocean is no longer my friend. I work out on a boat from dawn to dusk each day, but I hate it. When I was a boy, I was loud and innocent and naïve, the ocean was one of my best friends. I used to love it, I used to be enthused when we would go out on a boat to the ocean.

Now, though, I know better. The ocean's become an adversary, an old enemy. I don't like to think about it, it's associated with too many bad memories.

Instead, I go toward the town. There are plenty of little shops that will be there to entertain before the reaping.

People stare at me as I go into the many stores. They know that I'm the scheduled volunteer. Some little kids stare at me in awe. Some people stop me and say congratulations, but I shrug them off with a scowl. There's no way I'm opening up.

I stand in a small pawn shop, looking at some of the old antiques that are in there, when I hear a conversation between two of the guys in the store.

"Did you hear what happened to Millicent!?"

"Poor girl got injured!"

"Did you see the girl that's going to take her place?"

"She's so damn happy all the time it's pointless."

"District 4 doesn't have what it takes to be a full Career. Both the volunteers this year are 17!"

"What about the boy?"

"So freaking quiet. He's always scowling and angry. Might have what it takes but won't get any sponsors because he's just a sourpuss that never smiles."

I tense up. I leave the store quickly, and I still don't think the boys ever noticed me there. I know that I'm detached, it's not news, but it still hurts. I wish I could be the boy who loved everyone, had fun, smiled big, laughed loud, but that's not who I am anymore.

I see Phillip in one of the stores. He turns around and waves to me. Phillip works on my boat with me. He's one of the only people I could find that would help me participate in the necessary rituals to protect my boat from bad spirits.

"Hey!" he says cheerfully. He's very much unlike me in personality.

"Hi," I say. I don't want to get to close to him in fears that we might… _Sink._

"Are you ready for your big day?" He pats me on the back, flashing me a white smile.

"As ready as I can be," I say, sighing a bit.

"You're going to be awesome," he says, smiling. "Like, amazing awesome."

"Thanks. I have to go meet Josh, but I'll talk to you later."

"Alright. See you!"

I wave. Then I walk to the place I know Joshua will be waiting, hopefully without a group of girls surrounding him. He so often has ladies surrounding him, especially nowadays. He's just the kind of guy that has some major popularity.

He has so many friends, and so many admirers, I still don't know why he's hanging out with me. He has so many friends, and I have basically none. I haven't opened myself up enough to have any.

"Hey!" he says, "It's the volunteer!"

"Hi," I mumble, relieved that there don't seem to be any girls in sight.

Joshua is such a catch because he's everything that I'm not: loyal, optimistic, friendly, amiable… He deserves a friend that actually wants to talk to him instead of one that constantly tries to push him away like I do. I just don't want to get too close to him. I don't trust that he'll be around my whole life. I can't trust that anyone will be around.

"Are you ready for the reaping?"

I shrug my shoulders. He starts walking that way and I walk with him.

Together, we start walking to the Square for the reaping. Josh makes small-talk, and I contribute nothing. He smiles and waves at groups of people as we go, excited bubbly girls that _oooh_ and _aaah_ when he looks their way.

We get our fingers pricked and together we walk to the section for 17-year-old boys. "Today's all about you," he says, "Don't even mind the girl. Today is for Collin Glaucus." I shrug a little bit. I don't really care for the attention.

All I know is that I have to win for Tryin.

The mayor begins to speak and the reaping officially begins. He goes on and then the escort takes the stage.

Hydra Ploughman is someone who most District 4 recoils from. He's so grossly overweight, and so incredibly fake. People have said that he's a nice man, but I'm not so sure I believe them.

"Good morning District 4," he says, smiling. "And welcome to the reaping for the 84th annual Hunger Games!" The crowd claps, as is custom for District 4. We don't go crazy like other Career Districts, but we do make some noise.

"So, without further ado, let's begin," Hydra says. I watch intently for the first impression of my competition. "First, I will pick our female tribute." The District isn't too worried, because we know there's a scheduled volunteer as Four tries to challenge One and Two for most Victors. He picks a name.

"Kamini Farrows!" A girl from the 13-year-old section starts toward the stage. There's a bit of a delay before someone shouts, "I volunteer as tribute!"

It's loud and confident. A girl with a dark, wavy ponytail and brown cat eyes struts up to the stage.

"Wonderful, just wonderful! Tell me, dear, what is your name?" Hydra looks thrilled as she smiles, clears her throat and announces, "Serafina Anya Lecter," She seems confident.

"Very nice! And now for our male tribute!" My moment has come at last.

Hydra picks a name from the bowl. "Faraji Greco!"

The boy starts out from the 14-year-old section, but I stop him short. "I volunteer!" It's the loudest I've spoken in a long while. I realize that soon, I'll be fighting for my own survival, and swallow a lump in my throat as I start up to the stage.

"Yes, and what's your name?" Hydra asks.

I mumble into the microphone, "Collin Glaucus."

"Oh, yes, wonderful! Everyone, your District 4 tributes, Serafina Anya Lecter and Collin Glaucus!" The District claps for us. The girl smiles and holds out her hand to me. I take it and shake it with a strong, firm grip to show her that I'm not playing around.

Then, we turn around and go back to the Justice Building.

Uncle visits first, Tryin in tow. My brother immediately clings to me and cries. Ever since he was informed of what the Games really were, he's been horrified of them.

"Collin!" he cries, sitting in my lap. "You're really going away!" He hugs me and I just hug him back, not knowing what to say to him.

"I'm going to come home," I try.

"You could die! What if you die!? Like Dad!? I don't want you to die, Collin!" he sobs. I hold him tightly.

"I won't. I'm coming back to you." I say it certainly. He buries his face in my chest, sobbing and hiccupping with tears. I hold him close.

"I'm going to take care of the boy," whispers Uncle. "No matter what. I promise. I owe it to your father."

"Thanks," I whisper back, holding the sobbing Tryin close to me.

"I love you," I whisper to them. "I'm coming home. You'll understand why I have to do this. I have to get money and a good life for us."

Uncle ruffles my hair. "Love you too."

"I love you Collin," sobs Tryin. I kiss the top of his head, holding him close, whispering reassuring words as much as I can.

The Peacekeepers escort them out, Trying shouting and sobbing. "NO! COLLIN!"

Joshua and some other friends come in, greeting me and taking a seat.

"Good luck," Josh says awkwardly, not really sure what to say. This should be a happy thing, but I think Josh knows how I'm dreading it.

"Thanks."

"You'll do well," he says awkwardly.

"Thanks."

We sit in silence.

"Josh?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks for being a friend."

He nods. "Sure thing." He pats me on the back. "Good luck. Again."

"Yeah. Thanks." He leaves.

~.~.

 _-Seraphina Anya-_

Stan is the first to come in, Ohen going with him.

"That was totally awesome, Serafina Anya!" Ohen gushes, bouncing happily. I smile at him, accepting his hug. "Be the best tribute ever, alright?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with awe at what I've done.

"Of course," I smile at him. "I'll be home soon." I have to be. My family and friends need me.

I just keep that light, friendly, bubbly smile on my face as I hug my brother and step-father goodbye.

"Where's Mom?" I ask, confused.

"She has to be at work. They're doing an analysis of your volunteering as we speak. It appears that Training doesn't stop for anything, now that Four wants to work up to District 2 and 1 standards in terms of the Games."

"Oh." My mother trains the youngest age group at the Academy.

"What about Vandala?" I ask, looking. "Is she coming on her own?"

"She got swamped up in her moving plans. She just has too much to do." My heart sinks. If only I had known at the time that this morning would've been my last goodbye to my mother and sister. I have to get home, now. That wasn't a proper final goodbye!

"Don't worry," Stan says, seeing how upset the news must have made me, "They said to send their love."

"Right." I smile again like it doesn't bother me that much. "I'll be back soon, anyways."

Stan hugs me. "Yes, that's the spirit."

"Time's up," the Peacekeepers say.

"Good luck!" Ohen says, "Don't forget to be awesome!"

"I love you guys," I say. They both return it as the Peacekeepers escort them out.

Next come my friends. Each of them gives me a hug.

"That was great!" says Lowel.

"Amazing," agrees Sessa.

"Fucking rad," Camilla grins, causing the others to roll their eyes. I keep my smile on.

"Thanks. I'm really going into the Games. I can't believe it."

"What are you taking as your District token?" asks Lowel.

I show them the ribbon I'd tied around my wrist earlier this morning. "I always tie it around my ponytail when I dance. It will give me good luck."

"It's beautiful," says Sessa, her eyes wide.

"Thanks," I smile.

"You're going to be wonderful,' Lowel says.

"I'm so happy for you," gushes Sessa. "You were great and you're going to be great."

"Show them who's boss," Camilla says, patting my back. "I know you've got it in you."

"Thanks guys." We go into big group hug. "I love you guys."

"We love you too," they all say, smiling.

"I'll be home soon."

"You'd better be." says Lowel with a grin. The other two agree.

"Time's up!" the Peacekeepers say. The group walks out together, still smiling.

I keep that toxic smile on my face, hiding what I really feel. That's the best way to win the Games, after all. Hydra leads Collin and I out to the train together, smiling. I keep my chin up.

Soon, we're speeding away, toward the Capitol.

 _ **A/N: Yay, another chapter! I enjoyed writing these tributes! Let me know what you think!**_

 _ **I started a blog for this story/all my SYOT madness! It's celtic-syot-shenanigans . blogspot . com and it doesn't have much on it yet but it will have mentor profiles, the bios of the head honchos, one-shots, head-canons, and AUs that don't fit in the story, sneak peeks, and updates. Check it out, let me know what you think!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Same as others. Submitters: What did you think of how I wrote your characters? Others: Which one stood out more and why?**_

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	7. D5 Reaping

_-Cory Baker, 17-_ _CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean-_

I'm relieved when my alarm clock blares and tells me it's time to get up.

Nighttime for me is spent in a few different ways.

Either I look out the window, at the smoggy sky, trying to find a star or two or even the moon. Sometimes, I try to sleep, but ultimately fail, keeping myself awake with fears of the future. Or, I put the TV on a volume low enough that I don't wake my uncles and watch the programming that's on. Sometimes it's a rerun of the Games, sometimes it's commentators going on and on about whatever. Sometimes it's a fashion show filled with nothing but advertisements for stupid stuff only Capitolites can afford or get. And sometimes, it's features on the numerous Victors of the Hunger Games.

Last night, Blaine Buchanan and Saxon Hastings hosted a TV special called _Victors: Where Are They Now?_ The most attention was given to those Victors that will be mentoring in the upcoming Games. The part I watched started out all about Pit Kensy from District 2, the Victor of the 80th Games, who is heavily pregnant with her first child. Blaine and Saxon discussed the baby for a long while, ("It's going to be a girl, oh how I do hope she takes after her mother!" "But the baby's father Nikko is another strong Victor as well." "Oh, no matter which of the parents the baby takes after, she's sure to be a winner. Maybe even follow in the footsteps of her parents…") and then they moved on to the mentors from District 3.

As hard as it was to watch the nosy Capitolites delve into the lives of the Victors like gossiping about fellow students in high school, I continued to watch until it got to my home District, District 5. The Victors of District 5 are frightening, really, but they all come from our home so I try to see them as people and try to not be afraid of them.

A couple District 5 Victors were very briefly covered. The first mentor to appear and be focused on was Abner Sheraga, Victor of the 51st Games. Blaine and Saxon discussed how he so tragically lost a loved one, all thanks to "the horrible demon inside that he calls Lucifer."

District 5 knows that his Multiple Personality Disorder was caused largely by his Games, stemming from an inability to take lives with such a strong moral compass. Also, the people in his District who actually took time to know him as a Victor know that whatever the Capitolites are saying is bullshit. Sure, this _Lucifer_ that he made up is much more violent, but "Lucifer" is only known to be violent against Capitolites. So that's all lies.

The Capitol is an entity so large and dangerous that nothing can shake it. I live afraid of the Capitol's power, and at the same time hating it. But, what can I do? The answer is a big fat nothing.

They briefly covered the Victor of the 52nd Hunger Games, Sadie Fowler. Sadie Fowler is another one that, like Abner and "Lucifer," is feared by the entire District. She was ruthless in her Games, straightforward with what she thought of the Capitol, and completely lost her leg when it was caught under a rock after the tributes faced an earthquake. She was able to come out victorious anyhow, though she was never a Capitol favorite.

They said something about how Sadie is living with her brother and how sometimes they go for Sunday strolls around the Capitol, before changing the subject to District 5's most recent Victor.

Deborah Sullivan, the Victor of the 79th Games. She's one of the more composed Victors, or at least she is on the outside. The Games took her sister, and anyone who knows anything in District Five knows that something like that affects you for the rest of time.

I know how it is to lose someone. The Districts see so much loss all the time, it's become natural. I know how it is to lose.

I was five when word was going around our class that something horrible's happened in the factory. When I got home from school that day, worried for my mother, I found my father dead in the kitchen. My beloved parents, both dead and gone all at once. I was taken into live with my uncle (father's brother) and his husband, who were glad to have me (though horribly upset at the circumstances, of course) because they can't conceive children of their own.

They always looked out for me, Uncle Andrew and Uncle Dee. Uncle Dee stays at home and keeps the house organized and clean. He was injured in a work-related accident when I was 7, and that was the most horrified I'd ever been, hearing the news. I was afraid that my past would repeat itself again. Luckily, though, Uncle Dee recovered and Uncle Andrew was there every step of the way for him, and for me.

I practically begged Uncle Andrew to never go back to work, but as I got older I realized why it's so important that he works for us. We need the money and the food. At age 16, I knew it was time to face the fear and start working. It gives us the food we need, the combined efforts of myself and Uncle Andrew. It's what we have to do.

Anyways, I got off track. Blaine and Saxon chatted all about how determined Deborah always is to get a Victor and how devout she is as a mentor.

Uncle Dee appeared in the doorway then, his cane supporting him. "I thought I'd find you awake, Cory." He said it with a sad tone, he knew how anxious I am for the reaping. I shrugged my shoulders.

Ever since Mom and Dad both died, I stopped talking. I lost my will to use my voice, so I stopped using it. I could always talk again if it was totally necessary, but for now I have no reason to ever use my voice again. It's been that way since… Ever since I can remember, really. My Uncles understand and don't try to make me talk.

He sat next to me, looking at the screen as Allocen Baruqe from District 6 was discussed. "Nervous for the reaping, huh?"

I swallowed hard and nodded.

"You're almost done," he said, putting an arm around me. "You'll be alright."

I looked at the ground, letting my shoulders fall, allowing the defeated expression to illustrate what I want to say.

"You may have more slips in, but so do the other 17 and 18-year-olds. I know you're scared, though. It's alright to be scared." He pulled his arm around me and I rested my head on his chest.

We sat there a while, watching as the faces from District 7 went by in silence.

"Try and get some sleep," Uncle Dee said, brushing some of my red hair away from my face. If only my personality could be even _half_ as fiery and bright as my hair. I nodded a bit, though let it be conveyed that I wasn't very hopeful that I'd sleep too much. He took my hand and walked me to bed, going slowly on his cane. I walked with him, and let him tuck me in and tell me good night again.

I tried to sleep, going in and out of a doze, but when that alarm rang I was relieved.

I get out of bed, my feet hitting the ground as I yawn tiredly. I haven't had a good sleep in so long…

It's reaping day. My heart drops to my stomach at the thought. Thinking about it has sent me close to panic attacks before, and I feel the sense of dread and foreboding creeping up on me, dark and cold.

Uncle Andrew makes sure I'm awake before I get ready for my day. I put on a nice pair of dress pants and a collared shirt, taming my hair and staring at a girl that looks much older and more haggard than a seventeen-year-old. Then, once I'm ready, I go down to the all-purpose living room, kitchen, and guest bedroom for some makeshift breakfast. Uncle Andrew hands me some bread with a small, sad smile. We eat in a comfortable silence. Then, I take a small piece of bread to give to a special friend, waving and going out the door to catch my friend Victor before the reaping.

On my way, I find another friend I'd somehow manage to make. The little raven I affectionately call Sam is waiting in the same spot I rescued him from. I give him some bread and hear Victor's voice suddenly. "Cory!"

I turn around. He waves to me, and I smile and wave back. I'm happy to see him, and he can tell that by my body language. He gives me a brief hug in greeting, a friendly hug, before Sam flies up, grazing my friend's brunette head with his talons. Victor swats the air around him, though he laughs.

"You look nice," he says.

I nod and gesture to his outfit, giving him a smile and a thumbs up to say that I like his outfit too. They're practically the same, simple, typical District 5 reaping outfit. Well, a lot of girls wear dresses, but that's never really been my style.

I gesture to him and make a small sigh, pretending to wipe my forehead in a gesture that symbolizes relief.

He nods. "Yeah, I'm relieved that I'm done with the reapings." Victor is 19, this is his first year not having to worry that he's going to end up in a fight to the death. Lucky Victor. "You don't have too much time left. You'd be surprised with how fast it goes by."

I hang open my mouth, putting my hands on my cheeks in a totally over-dramatic demonstration of surprise. Victor laughs, "Yeah, like that."

I see a group of people going to the Square and realize that if I don't hurry, I'm going to be late. I make a fast-paced, frantic motion, pointing toward the Square.

"Oh, yeah, we might be late!" he says. He starts toward the Square and I go with him. He gives me a hug goodbye and I wave to him a bit, and then he goes to the section for people that aren't eligible, and I get my finger pricked and head to the section for the 17-year-old girls. The mayor speaks, but he's so soft-spoken barely anyone listens.

The escort, Hyacinth Vanilla, walks up on the stage, wearing a very simple, elegant black dress, a necklace of white orbs around her neck, and black gloves. Her black hair is pulled up as always in a high ponytail, and of course she wouldn't be caught dead without her signature black eyeshadow against her dark skin.

"Good morning, District 5," she says, sounding posh and sophisticated. "We shall begin the reaping for the 84th annual Hunger Games with a video straight from the Capitol!" The typical, same-old same-old video plays. I start to get nervous, feeling the urge to cry for fear of being reaped. After the video is over, she gives us all a calm smile. "Now, we select our lady first."

She goes over to the glass ball, and I fidget with my clothes awkwardly as she reads a name.

"Cory Baker!"

Th…That's me… I don't react. My body freezes. I can't make myself move. "Cory Baker? Cory? Hello?" hear the escort calling my name impatiently, but I can't move. I just stay frozen, mouth hanging open in shock much similar to how I impersonated surprise for Victor earlier. Suddenly, I feel a rough push, forcing my body into motion as Peacekeepers _assist_ me onto the stage. I stumble up the stairs, still in horror, looking out at the District and realizing that this isn't a dream or nightmare, this is real…

The boy is reaped. "Hamilton Rayce!" He comes out of the 15-year-old section, looking pale and deathly, his dark brown eyes wide. He makes it up to the stage, looking terrified but holding it together.

"Shake hands, you two," she says, nudging us together. I reach out and shake his hand, trying to not seem horrified. Then, we're whisked back to the Justice Building.

~.~.

 _-Hamilton Rayce, 15- We're All Okay-_

"Hamilton, it's time to wake up! If you don't you'll have no time before the reaping!"

I sit up, yawning. I can feel the bedhead from here, my thick brown curls sticking up everywhere. I get the briefest glance at my mother's blue eyes as she turns around to go to our family room. I wish I had eyes that are a color like hers. Mine are dark and boring brown.

I feel so tired, knowing that it's because I stayed up way too late last night watching the special hosted on TV the other night. The history of the Games is interesting to me, even if I have to watch the intolerable chatter of the Capitolites on the screen. The special provides some good history on the Games of the distant past.

If I could choose what would be shown on television, though, I would want to see more about the history of what came before Panem. I can barely find anything about it, but I know that Panem didn't just start existing one day. _Everything_ has history. _Something_ came before Panem.

It's a ghost of a whisper, I've only ever found the word on one small excerpt from a centuries-old book in the tiny excuse for a library associated with the school. America. I want to know more about America. I don't even know anything about America. What was America? I want to know why it's said like taboo. I want to know everything I can about America.

But, no. Until that day, we have to deal with the Capitol bullshit they show us. Those poor, miserable Victors. I could never be where they are, I'm way too afraid for that. I can barely stand up for myself on a daily basis, let alone in a fight to the death!

I get out of bed, changing into a nice shirt and pair of slacks for the reaping before trying to tame my horrid bedhead and going down to the room that serves as our gathering room and kitchen and Games watching room.

"How nice you look for the reaping, son. Surely the girls will be all over you today, what a charming young man-" he stops upon my entering, and immediately a palpable tension fills the room. My father immediately continues. "And what a good son he is, too."

"Jackson isn't any better than me," I say. My mother pats my shoulder as she hands me some meager breakfast.

"Ol' Hammy Ham's just jealous," Jackson says, putting his feet up on the table.

"Jealous of what?! Your inability to obey the law!?" I feel myself getting heated and angry.

"Jealous that everyone actually likes me!" Jackson laughs loudly, enjoying heating the conflict. "Jealous that I'm older and cooler and have more friends that aren't little dweebs like yours!"

"My friends aren't dweebs and neither am I!" my voice has gone up into a shout.

"Hamilton, that's enough!" My father says, crossing his arms.

"Don't worry Pops, I was just leaving," Jackson says. He gives both my parents a hug and a kiss. "I'll see you after the reaping!" he goes out the door.

The rest of breakfast goes by in a horribly awkward silence. My father knows how I feel about his blatant favoritism toward my older brother, who everyone seems to like for whatever reason. I'm so sick of being in his shadow.

Just because Jackson is loud doesn't mean that he's any better than me. Sure, I don't talk much, I'm quiet and awkward, but though my friends are few, they're mine. They're loyal and honest and trustworthy. They're my true friends, not like the blue-sky friends like Jackson has. Quality over quantity, I say.

I used to like Jackson, look up to him, even. We started working together in the factory, making electrical devices for the Capitol. It's dangerous work, all done by hand, but it makes some good money. No place for a 12-year-old to have started working, but I didn't let that stop me. I trace my finger over the tender scar tissue on my arm from where I had been burned on the job. I'm lucky it had only been a burn.

A year after we started working, Jackson and his friends ended up getting arrested and whipped publicly for destroying three shops and injuring a shop owner. " _All in good fun_ ," they said. " _It was just an accident._ " My parents were too busy being worried over the fact that Jackson was whipped to think about why he faced the consequences in the first place. Of course the bastard used that excuse to get pity from literally everyone.

I wasn't fooled. I saw the look in that poor storeowner's eyes. His whole business had been destroyed, his only hope of making money, plus he was going to have a pile of debt from being tended to for his injuries. The look of miserable desperation in the eyes of an innocent man… I never trusted him after that. It seemed I was the only one, though.

"I'm going to see friends before the reaping too," I mumble, ashamed of being yelled at for yelling at Jackson. I really don't like conflict….

I go out the door, ready to find my friends for at least some time together before the reaping. I have two really close friends, and I can't really get myself to talk to anyone else. They're really all I need.

They're both a year older than me, but that really doesn't matter. Alfred is a family friend, and miraculously he felt the same way about Jackson that I did. He stands up for me when I need it, even if we have some conflict at times. I always brush it off because Alfred is so abrasive and I'm not, though.

My other friend, my best friend, I met working in the factory. As soon as we started talking, working side-by-side, we hit it off. Millie Dalton always has my back. She's my strength and sometimes has to force me to treat myself and have some confidence. She's the first one I find, her curly red hair sticking out in the crowd. Also the fact that she's at least a head shorter than me even though she's older.

"Hey!" she says, "There you are!"

"Hey," I say, thinking about my screaming match with my brother and sighing disdainfully.

"How are you?"

"Terrified." I can't lie to her. I keep trying to make myself feel better after the conflict, thinking that things will get better and it will all go smoothly, but then I remember that the reaping is going to happen in less than half an hour, and then the fear comes back and clutches at my chest.

"It's that time again. You just have to have faith," she says. She can't say anything that will make me feel better. She knows that there's no avoiding the fact that every year two tributes are reaped and I could be one of them. She could be one of them. Alfred could be one of them.

"It gets harder and harder to have faith," I say, sighing. It's horrifying to think about, and watching the Victors special last night just makes me more nervous. Seeing the haunted, dead looks in their eyes, knowing that they're nothing like they may've once been. I don't want to suffer a fate like that…

"Let's not think about it. Let's go look at some of the stuff in the pawn shop and try to find Alfred."

"We should get going to the Square-"

"Come on!" she takes my hand and together we go to the pawn shop, looking at the various trinkets, dirty and dim, old and worn, there to try and give poor families some kind of half-nice heirloom to call their own for cheap. We look but don't touch. It's the typical, mostly trashy stuff. Some nice things, like watches and necklaces…

"Hey!" we turn around and see Alfred there, smiling at us.

"Hey," says Millie.

"Getting your token?" he asks, a glint in his blue eyes.

I accidentally let out a whimper. The thought of the reaping and going into the Games makes me feel extremely afraid. "Not funny," I say quietly, sighing. Alfred shrugs and we silently agree to disagree, as is usual.

"Don't worry about it," he says, "Really. It'll all turn out okay. After all, I have one more slip than you, don't I?" He laughs, and I don't appreciate his joking around. The Games are serious and horrifying. He holds up a wrist watch. "Bought this guy today. He's gonna be my token. Just in case. So I wouldn't have to go without one."

I can't believe he's not taking this seriously. I sigh quietly.

"Let's get to the Square!" Millie says, breaking the tension. I love Alfred, we have each others' backs, sure, but sometimes we just can't agree. She starts toward the Square and we both follow her.

We all get checked in for the reaping, and go to our separate sections. I'm left alone, biting my lip and twiddling my fingers nervously. The mayor talks, and I try to hear his words but everyone talks over him. Hyacinth Vanilla shuts up the crowd, starting the reapings officially with the video.

The longer the video goes, the more my heart pounds. There's no escaping the fact that two tributes are getting reaped today. Well, 24 tributes are getting reaped today, but two from District 5 specifically.

"Now, we select our lady first." Hyacinth goes over to the girls bowl. My stomach twists in a knot. _What if it's Millie!?_

"Cory Baker!" I only feel slightly relieved. After all, the boy's name is next. The District goes into silence. We wait, Hyacinth calling her name impatiently. Suddenly, we notice a commotion as a girl is pushed to the steps by Peacekeepers. Her red hair is a bit of a mess, her angular face looking so very exhausted.

Next, she goes over to the boys' reaping bowl. She picks a name. "Hamilton Rayce!"

It's me. I've been reaped. My eyes widen and I feel like crying. I start up to the stage, though. I'll be damned if the Peacekeepers have to force me, too. I hold it together as I slowly go up the stairs, determined not to cry, though feeling horrified.

"Shake hands, you two," Hyacinth says, and slowly we obey what she says. She presents us one last time and then we go back into the Justice Building.

My mother is the first one in, running over and giving me a tight hug. I hug her back, the weight of the situation suddenly hitting me. I'm going to have to kill if I want to come out alive. If I ever want to see my friends and family again, I'm going to have to take lives. Something that may be easy for Jackson to think about, but something I could never do. I hug my mother and let the tears out, the anxiety hitting me like a wave of misery and nerves.

My father stays behind, watching me awkwardly. I give him a brief, awkward hug once my mother lets go.

I notice that Jackson came, too, but he stays in a corner and doesn't talk. _Good_. I don't want my mom to have to sit through another one of our screaming matches as a last memory of me. I know I can't think like this, I still have a chance, but… It's hard.

"My baby," my mother says, hugging me again. "My baby…"

"I'll try to win," I say, "I promise. I'll try."

"My baby…" she says, hugging me tighter. I just keep on hugging her.

"I love you," I say to her quietly.

"I love you too," she says, "My baby…"

"Time's up," says the Peacekeeper in charge. My mother is forced to let go, and my father keeps his arm around her as they leave together, Jackson behind.

Millie and Alfred come together for support, and I'm relieved to see them.

"Hamilton!" Millie gives me a tight hug. I hug her back, and her tears cause me to cry harder. I need to keep my head up, but I just can't do it… I need to get home but I don't know if I can… I'm just a soft-spoken, nervous dweeb from District 5…

"Please, you have to win," Millie says, sobbing, squeaking with sobs, tears flowing out of her eyes. I notice that she really is an ugly crier, but I'm sure that I'm not exactly the epitome of beauty at this point either.

"I'll… Try…" I choke out. "I don't know if I can, but I'll t-try," I say quietly, choking with more tears.

"You have a chance," Alfred says. "Really, Hamilton. You have a fighting chance. Don't ever believe that you don't, please."

"I'll try…" I say. I'm already convinced that it's hopeless and that I have no chance of getting out, but for the sake of my friends I have to try and hold it together enough to win. I owe it to them to try my very best. No matter how much I feel like they can go on without me.

"Please…" Millie pulls out a piece of paper from her pocket. "Take this. Have it as your token. It'll r-remind you…" she pauses, letting out a squeaky sob, "…That you have to get home… We need you here at home…" she sobs into her hands as I unfold the paper to see a picture of us.

This picture was taken in a much better time, by someone at school who was taking pictures and passing out copies. I had let Millie keep it at the time because, even though it was just a small picture in black and white, she thought it was the bee's knees. Now, she was giving it back to me, to take into a fight to the death.

"Are you sure?" I ask her quietly. I want her to have a last memory of me…

"You can give it back when you win."

"If by some miracle, I win," I correct her. I feel bad sending her into another fit of sobs, but I try to be realistic for her sake. I don't want to get her hopes up and have her disappointed… What kind of friend would I be if I did that?

"You have to win," she sobs out, and I take my friend into a hug.

"I promise I'll try my very best," I whisper to her, quietly. It's all I can say to her without lying or being too idealistic.

"You have to," Alfred says.

"Time's up," the Peacekeeper says those cursed words.

"I love you!" I call, as they're being dragged away, Millie sobbing.

"We love you too!" Alfred calls back.

And they're suddenly gone.

~.~.

 _-Cory-_

My Uncles are the first to arrive.

I hug Uncle Andrew, tears falling down my cheeks. I can feel a panic attack coming, as I think about the dread of the Games and the inevitability of my having to fight to the death… I feel more and more scared as time goes.

"It's okay," he hugs me tightly and I bury my face in his neck, crying, choked sobs escaping me. "You're going to be okay. You're 17. You're strong. You're capable." He holds me tight and I cry into his neck and shoulder, trying to get myself together but only sinking further and further into a dark abyss of fear.

Soon, I start to hyperventilate, and Uncle Andrew's words blur together in my panic. He sits me down, and I try not to sob out loud. Uncle Dee sits with us, giving me a tight hug. Feeling their embraces calms me down, and soon I'm composed enough to be seeing clearly again. "You can do it," Uncle Dee whispers, "You can do this. You can win." I cry into his neck. We sit there for a while until the Peacekeeper says, "Time's up."

I hug Uncle Andrew. "I love you," he whispers, and I give him a kiss on the cheek. Uncle Dee hugs me and says, "I love you." I make a heart with my hands at both of them, drying my eyes. Then, I do a little bow, to symbolize a "thank you" for all that they've done for me. The Peacekeepers escort me out.

Next to visit is Victor, and he carries Sam the raven with him. When I notice Sam, my eyes light up, and I wipe a tear from my eyes, taking the bird and holding him, bowing to Victor in thanks, smiling through my tears.

Victor takes me into a one-armed hug. "You have a shot. Really, Cory, you do. You can come home. You can do it. We need you to come back."

I nod a bit.

Victor realizes just then, "You need a token!" I consider for a second, plucking the feather from the bird in my arms, who squawks in protest. I smile a little bit with a bit of a silent laugh through my tears.

Victor gives me one last hug. "I love you, Cory, you need to come home." I make a heart at him with my hands to return it. I hand Sam back to him and give another bow of thanks. He waves a bit and I wave back, and then he leaves.

Hyacinth gathers me and Hamilton, immediately hissing advice on how to look fierce for the cameras on the way to the train. Once we're on, I stare out the window and watch everything I know whiz away from sight.

 _ **A/N: I can't freaking believe that this story's almost at 100 reviews and I haven't even posted 10 chapters! I am so lucky and blessed and I thank you guys for your reviews and support, it makes it a lot easier to update! And next chapter, I'll already be halfway through the reapings!**_

 _ **I've started to put mentor and escort bios on my blog! URL for that is on my profile, but it's celtic-syot-shenanigans . blogspot . com. Hopefully that shows up.**_

 _ **This is the last call for mentors and escorts, and that includes those that are reserved! If they're not in by January 5**_ _ **th**_ _ **, then I'll be filling in the rest of the spots myself.**_

 _ **NOTE TO THOSE WHO SUBMITTED MENTORS AND ESCORTS: I'll be posting images with all the bios for mentors and escorts, so if you want to send me one, feel free, but if not, I'll just find one that fits the mentor's description or something like an aesthetic/object associated with them. So basically if you want to send me a picture, do, but if not, I'll just find one.**_

 _ **So we get to see a little bit of the mentors! How'd you like them!? Do you want to see more of them or wait until later chapters?**_

 _ **Wonder why some people have scores in the stratosphere *glances at Legend, Dreamer, and Jess*? It's because they've read my 1**_ _ **st**_ _ **Games, 41**_ _ **st**_ _ **Games, and 36**_ _ **th**_ _ **Games stories and stockpiled on points by reviewing and answering chapter questions! And if you want to boost your score, it's really easy to do! Not too late to read those ones and review for points!**_

 _ **Oh, and my friend Megan (We're All Okay) has started an SYOT of her very own! And needs submitters! So check it out and give her lots of love and reviews and tributes!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Same as the others. Submitters: How did you like how I wrote them? And non-submitters: Which one stood out more and why?**_

 _ **SCORES:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 36**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 41**_

 _ **Dreamer: 297**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 66**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 66**_

 _ **epictomguy: 14**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 42**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **FlawlessCatastrophe: 12**_

 _ **xGred-Forgex: 31**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 194**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 12**_

 _ **Jess: 361**_

 _ **Josephm611: 62**_

 _ **Kate: 243**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 97**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 56**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 61**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 75**_

 _ **Red Roses (Guest): 5**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 56**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 17**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **Sinfonian Legend: 335**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 5**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 51**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 66**_


	8. D6 Reaping

_-Billie West, 16- Seahorse8-_

Mirabel shakes me awake that morning. I roll over and look at the clock. 9:42, it says.

I take in a breath and sigh, rolling over tiredly. I really don't want to wake up. Mirabel shakes me again, more forcefully this time. My eyes open up tiredly, looking at my sister and silently begging her to let me sleep some more. "Reapings," she says. I sigh again and get out of bed, yawning.

My curly hair poofs out when I sit up, sticking all over the place as is typical for it. I get up out of bed and Mirabel, satisfied at having me awakened, goes back to her room. This is her last reaping, lucky her. I can't help but feel bitter that she's going to be done with them while I still have to wait three years before I'm safe.

I get out of bed, going to our tiny, single bathroom (if you would call it that) to get ready for the day. I stare at myself in the mirror and immediately find all my imperfections. My hair is huge, too huge, my stature is too small, cheeks too rosy, hair too huge and everywhere. I can't help but think that if I didn't live in this shithole maybe I'd actually cause people to look my way.

It's hard enough knowing that nobody puts effort into communicating with you just because you're deaf. I can still read lips and speak well, considering that I was able to learn to talk and learn words all the way back when I was a kid. I could communicate, but nobody puts in the effort to start conversations with me.

I put on a simple dress for the reaping and run a comb through my hair, trying to at least control it. Even when I'm done I'm not satisfied but I know I need to go out for breakfast. I go out to the kitchen, and see my parents there. I almost never see my parents, so it's a surprise.

My parents do care about Mirabel and I, sure, but they're not usually around and spend a lot of time working, leaving the two of us to provide for ourselves. I really don't mind it, Mirabel and I usually get along pretty well and she's a good influence on me.

"Good morning," Mom says. This conversation is pretty predictable, really, and I say, "Good morning."

I take a small croissant for breakfast, having some butter for it as a special _I-could-be-sent-away-in-a-fight-to-the-death_ treat. It's really nothing special or great, and I make sure my other three family members know it: "This is so bland and barely even a treat at all," I say. My parents exchange a look.

"Billie," Mirabel scolds, giving me a look. She's more of a mother to me than my _actual_ mother is, even though she's only two years older than me.

"Well, it's true," I say, shrugging. I can't help but say what I think, whether or not anyone is listening, which they're usually not. "Whoopie, tasteless, bland butter against this horribly bleak piece of bread."

"Stop saying that," Mirabel says, "At least we _have_ something to eat, which is better than many people in this District."

I shrug. "Just because their lives suck slightly more than ours doesn't mean our lives still don't suck."

Mirabel gives me a look that's slightly cold, in scolding, and I shrug at her again. People have said I'm pessimistic, but I'm really just being honest. Life sucks around here, so why pretend it doesn't?

I finish my bland, barely-breakfast breakfast and say, "I'm leaving!" as I go out the door. My sister and I argue a lot, but in the end we're always there for each other. We're all the other has, basically. We've had to figure out life for ourselves because it's not like our parents had any kind of help in figuring it out.

Sometimes I get really bitter, but I just can't help it. Why do so many people have it so much better just because of how they ended up? Why do Capitolites not have to fight for their status like we do in the Districts? Why am I stuck here in this hellhole when I have the skill and imagination to work my way up to the top? It's so not fair, and what can we do about it? That's right, absolutely nothing at all.

I exit the house, going to meet my best friends before it's time for the reaping at 10:30.

The weather is calm and relaxing, totally the opposite weather than you'd expect for the reaping. You'd want it to be dark, stormy, raining, miserable, but it's really not miserable. I sigh a little bit, coughing a bit from all the smog. Being the District of transportation, we're also one of the most polluted District in all of Panem. I hate it here. Even when it's nice, it's still horribly smoggy and depressing. What a nice place to be all the fucking time.

I see Blossom first and go over to her. She waves to me. "Hi Billie!" she says. She's pretty predictable and easy to read too.

"Hey," I say. I have no idea what I sound like, honestly. My hearing was completely gone by the time I was 10, so I didn't really get to experience puberty and how it changed my voice.

Ever since I lost my hearing, people have said I've developed a kind of accent and a special way of talking. So basically people can tell I'm deaf by how I talk. I've tried to figure out what it is, straining to remember back to the times when I could at least hear out of one ear. Back to when I learned how to talk and what it sounded like, what it felt like… Eventually, I just… Gave up. Accepted the fact that nobody's going to make an effort for me and that life just all-around sucks ass.

"What's up? Are you scared for the reaping?" her eyes have a little bit of fear in them, wide.

"Well I'm not exactly excited," I tell her, sighing a bit. Blossom really is a friend, and no matter what I still care about her a lot. She was named for a flower, a plant, all-natural, in hopes that maybe she would experience happiness here in this smoggy, polluted place. I sit on a bench with her by the square, watching them prepare for the reaping as Lucie approaches, running over energetically. I break into a smile, waving to her as she says, "Hey!"

"Hi!" I say, smiling. Blossom smiles too.

Lucie is my best friend, has been since we could first toddle. She'd been there for me as I lost my hearing, and was there the day I finally had to admit it was gone, and that I would never hear again. She was there when I was forced out of denial, and collapses, sobbing and not being able to hear myself crying and yelling. She's been there ever since, helping me to get better at lip reading by saying the most insane words and helping me learn how to read their sounds. And, of course, she's been there with me through every single absolutely insane and crazy plot, scheme, and idea.

Lucie gives me a hug and I hug her back. "So, are you ready for our next…" she smiles deviously, "Idea?"

I laugh. "Yeah, for sure. Did you get the supplies?"

She beams, "Yup, it's all waiting at home." Hey, Lucie and I are so bored here, we have to entertain ourselves somehow. Around my friends, I smile a lot more than usual.

"Hopefully it'll work. I mean, there are a lot of things that could go wrong…"

"Don't worry, Billie." Lucie puts a hand on my shoulder. "We've planned this out to a T. No need to be so pessimistic."

"Alright…" It's hard for me to not focus on what might go wrong, though.

"Are you guys really sure this is a good idea?" Blossom says.

"Of course," grins Lucie. "You can't back out now."

"Right…" she nods. "You're right!" Blossom is always along for the ride when it comes to stuff like this, but she's a pretty good help.

"Let's just get through the… Reapings first." I hate that word, reaping. Sending tributes off to their deaths… Teens. I usually try to avoid thinking about how much the Capitol pisses me off, but on days like this it's hard to think about anything but the hell the Capitol's put us all through.

We notice that people are starting to go to the Square for the reapings, so we go together.

We get our blood taken, and together we walk to the 16-year-old girls section. I look over at the boy's side, noticing how some of them really clean up nicely for the reaping. I look for any boys that might be cute before remembering that even if I find one, he'd barely even look my way. I'm not particularly impressive, especially because I'm deaf.

Lucie takes my hand for support and squeezes it as the reaping begins. The mayor stands on the podium, and his lips move as he's talking but I have no idea what about. I just hold onto Lucie's hand. The video plays, with all the familiar scenes playing, and then the escort takes the stage.

Demetria Dawn is a young woman that started escorting when I was 14 and the old escort retired. Her arms are covered in tattoos, and her hair is black and white, in order to represent a racing flag, according to Lucie, with part of a tire on the white half of her hair like an accessory. It's nice to know that all our hard work here goes to the Capitol's wasteful entertainment. Just like the Games.

The camera shows a close-up of Demetria's makeup-covered face, and I can actually read her lips as she reaches into the glass bowl, saying, "Our young lady will be drawn first!"

She picks a piece of paper out of the bowl, walks to the microphone, and reads it. I read her lips on the big screen as she says, "Billie West!"

I stop, in shock. Lucie grabs onto my hand tighter. I realize that I've just been reaped. I swallow hard, letting go of her hand and starting on my way to the stage. Fear and doubt start to creep in, and the realization that I'm going into the Games, I could quite possibly be dead.

 _I refuse to look weak,_ I tell myself, starting up through the 17-year-olds. When I go through the 18-year-olds, and see Mirabel's face, tears rolling down her cheeks, I start to cry. By the time I make myself go up the steps, I'm sobbing, probably making vocal noises as I cry. I can't help it, I feel afraid, angry, sad… I'll be leaving my family and my home.

Demetria smiles, but she has a look in her eyes of disgust, which makes me feel even more angry and upset, trying to control my tears as she picks the boy. I don't hear the name, nor do I care enough at this point to read her lips.

He steps out from the 15-year-olds section, everyone watching him, making his way up to the stage without showing any kind of emotion at all. He has dark skin and wavy black hair, making his way up the steps looking determined. I curse myself for crying, straightening up my posture and trying to not look desperate. He smiles when he gets up to the stage, and I know that even though he's a year younger than me, the District and Capitol are going to take to him better.

I don't listen to what Demetria says, and just shake his hand when he holds it out to me and we go to the Justice Building together.

 _-Amari Cooper, 15- Jalen Kun-_

My father flips on the lights and rips the covers off of me as a good morning. Then again, he knows damn well that I'd probably sleep until noon if he didn't.

I'm usually pretty good at getting myself up on time for school, but today's not a school day. My body clock woke me up earlier at six o'clock in the morning, but I realized that there is no school today and immediately went right back to sleep.

My father's now waking me up so I have plenty of time to get ready and go out to see my friends before the reaping. It's so nice to have him home the thoughts of what's to come don't affect me too much, as I tell him good morning and get out of bed.

My Dad's had to work pretty hard lately to keep food on the table and keep our decent, middle-class standard of living, but I appreciate him and all that he does so much. I mean, I love my mother, really, don't get me wrong, but she's so damn strict I feel like I have to be a perfect son to make her happy with me and keep her from blowing up, which is really scary.

I hate the thought that I always have to be perfect. It's the only thing that consumes my mind when I'm by myself. Which is why I really would prefer to not be on my own. I wish I could break free, fly away from the shackles that keep me in this District, and be something great. Unfortunately, there's absolutely no way for me to break free, considering that right now the most I can be is a 15-year-old boy from District 6. Well, at least I can build up my social status.

I comb my dark hair away from my face in its usual style, thankful that it's not really high-maintenance because I definitely wouldn't want to have to spend a lot of time on it. But, really, what teenage boy _would_ want to spend a lot of time with his hair in the morning when he could be sleeping?

I put on a nice shirt and slacks for the reaping, going to the small kitchen/sitting room for breakfast. I have a modest little breakfast of bread and some actual jam, which tastes pretty good. I'd say it's a pretty nice reaping day treat.

I love to see my father home, and my mother likes it too, though her face is set in that default scowl she always has that makes me feel constantly inadequate. I eat with my parents, my Dad teasing me about the girls I talk to before my mother changes the conversation away from "something so petty" and back to the reaping.

"Don't worry, Mom, I'll be just fine," I reassure her, sitting with posture and using good manners to please her. I wouldn't want her to be mad with me. Sometimes I'm not sure how my mother and father even started dating, all the way back. She's very no-nonsense, and my father is a jokester like I am.

"You say that now," she says.

"There are plenty of kids with more slips in there than me." I feel bad saying it but know that it's true.

"You have to be ready for the worst," she says.

"Of course," I say, wanting to please her. The last thing I want is for her to be upset with me.

I check the time and know I need to get moving if I want to catch up with my friends before the start of the reaping. I hug my father and he kisses the top of my head before teasingly ruffling my hair, causing me to laugh. I hug my mother as well, who fixes my hair and gives me one last gentle look before I put my shoes on and head out the door.

I smile at the people I walk past, trying to do anything I can to raise the mood even if the day is so dreary and the impending reaping scares everyone. I know that after the reaping the mood will be ten times more somber, but for now I feel pretty okay spreading smiles. My Dad is home from work for once, and I got to sleep in, and had some jam for breakfast… Right now I'm in a pretty good mood.

I see a couple girls in my year and go over to them. "Hey!" I greet, they all exchange a look.

"Hi," says the prettier one with green eyes and dark hair.

"What're your names? I'm Amari." I let my carefree, confident posture pull the familiar, confident smirk on my lips.

They both introduce themselves.

"Are you flirting with us?" the other one asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe," I say, causing the prettier of the two to giggle.

Suddenly a hand claps on my shoulder.

"Ey, Amari!" I look over and see my best friend Kyle there, his gray eyes alight with a smile.

"Hey," I say, turning back to the girls. "This is my best friend Kyle." I introduce him to the girls, who are still blushing slightly and laughing.

"Nice to meet you," Kyle says, with a smile that even I can't help but gaze at. Kyle really is an attractive dude. And sometimes I can barely look at him without remembering that one evening we spent together, in complete experimentation. Maybe if he wasn't my best friend (practically a brother), we would've actually pursued something after that. I mean, he's a really good kisser. But, we decided to leave it as friends.

Which I guess I don't really mind either. It leaves me open to charming boys and girls alike. And, of course, reaping the benefits of being well-liked. I tell the girls that they should look for us at school before Kyle and I leave them giggling and blushing, high-fiving on the way.

Suddenly, I see someone else approaching.

"Hey! Amari!" he's holding a piece of paper. "You said you needed to see this?" he hands me a copy of last night's mechanics homework.

"Oh, yeah, totally. Man, I was really struggling. Thanks for this, Soren, really, you're the best." I smile at him and his eyes light up. Oh, Soren. One of the few boys I know in the District who swing both ways like Kyle and myself, and I ask him for homework help because sometimes I just don't feel like doing it. I work awful hard to be liked and sometimes I just have to reap the rewards from it. Besides, helping me out makes him smile. I wouldn't ever do anything to _hurt_ somebody. It's just the little favors that I have people do for me, really, that's all.

"Any time, Amari," he says, his sweet brown eyes sparkling. Yes, it's nice to be liked.

"I'll see you in school?" I say, folding the paper up and putting it in my pants pocket.

"Oh, yes, of course! I'll see you then!" He runs off, probably to go find some of the other, uh, less popular and well-liked people he knows.

I walk with Kyle until we find Lydia, my other best friend, just as she's separating from her boyfriend with a sexy smile and wave.

"Hey guys," she says, waving. She's another of the more desirable people I know. I give her a nice tight hug in greeting, and she laughs, "Not trying to steal me away from him, are you?" We always go through this.

I shrug. "You're a beautiful girl, really." I grin at her and she giggles.

Together, the three of us sit and relax a bit before the reapings, bored and with nothing better to do.

"Look at that guy," she says, pointing to some guy who walks with a girl.

"She's way too good for him," Kyle observes. "He's a creep."

"Why don't you try?" I tease him, laughing. I find it easier to flirt, he sometimes needs help from a wingman.

He flicks me, "Shut up, Shorty."

"Don't call me that!" I say indignantly. I hate when he reminds me that he's taller than me. Hopefully I'm not done growing yet.

"Look over there," Lydia says, changing the subject to prevent a fight. "Look at those girls." She gestures to a group of three girls talking, their eyes alight with the happiness of being together.

"Look at the small one," I comment, making a poofing motion above my head to represent her huge curly hair. The other two laugh, making "poof!" sound effects as they mock her hair. Lydia's hair is curly, too, but it's much more tasteful on her than it is on that girl. It's really not meant to be mean, really it isn't. We're just bored.

Suddenly, the group of girls leaves, and I realize that it's almost reaping time. "Come on," I say, "We should get to the reapings." Together we walk there, Kyle cracking jokes as we go and all of us discussing the escort's horrible fashion taste.

We get checked in and say goodbye to Lydia before going to the section roped off for the 15-year-old boys. Together we stand and wait as I say hello to the groups of people around me and wishing them good luck. Kyle keeps smiling as the mayor makes his speech, mocking the way he constantly runs a hand across his horribly ugly comb-over. Then, the video.

Ugh, the stupid _video_! It takes forever and the acting on it is absolutely horrible. Someone dramatically flops over and Kyle laughs. I elbow him for laughing, because this is supposed to be serious, but it really is funny.

After that, Demetria Dawn steps on the stage, her half-black, half-white hair making her look like a fucking clown. She has so much make-up on Kyle whispers to me that she must have drowned to death in it, and I laugh.

Her dress is red and covers her very obvious high heels that she can barely even walk in. She picks the girl's name first. "Billie West!"

I watch the girls' section to see if she's hot, and am surprised to find that the girl walking to the stage is the girl whose hair goes poof! Kyle bumps me on the shoulder and makes the poofing motion again, laughing, causing me to smile. What a coincidence.

Then, Demetria goes over and picks the boy's name. She clears her throat and reads, "Amari Cooper!"

Suddenly, my smile fades. My heart sinks. Everything starts to fall apart as I realize that I was just reaped for the Games, and will have to go into a fight to the death… My throat tightens as I walk to the stage, feeling every eye in the entire District, the entire _nation_ on me, including my family and friends. I love having attention, but… Not like this.

I go slowly, not letting myself show any kind of emotion. I go up the steps and once I arrive on the stage, I force a smile, trying to make it look convincing.

"Oh, very nice! Shake hands now, you two!" I shake Poofy girl's hand, and we're escorted into the Justice Building.

My parents are the first to visit me. I don't see either of them cry, which is fairly unexpected. They hug me tightly, not knowing what to say to me at all.

"I'm going to make it back," I say, my heart breaking at the emptiness of the promise. "I promise you that I'm going to make it back here, I'll come home…" I hug them tightly and they hug me.

"Please…" Mom says, quietly, "We need you home."

"We need you back," Dad says, tightening his hug.

I don't know how long it is that we stay hugging, but too soon they're escorted out by Peacekeepers, shouting a last "We love you!"

"I love you too!" I call after them.

Lydia and Kyle come in next. Lydia is absolutely sobbing. Kyle looks shaken up, too, tears dotting his eyes.

"Oh Amari!" Lydia says, hugging me tightly and sobbing into my neck. I hug her back, fighting off the urge to cry.

"Sh…" I say, hugging her, "Don't worry."

I hug Kyle next as Lydia collapses on a chair, sobbing. I let him go and we all sit down.

"I'm going to make it back," I tell them, biting my lip as I don't believe it. "Really."

"You h-have to!" Lydia sobs into her hands.

"I know." I have to think fast, have to find a way to put the smiles on their faces. I don't think I can take watching them cry much longer without breaking down myself.

"Hey, don't worry," I say. They both look up before Lydia buries her face in her hands again, sobbing quietly. "My beautiful best friends," I dramatically fall to my knees on my floor. "The loves of my life! Oh, how I love you so, oh how I couldn't live without your beauty and your grace!"

They look up, so I increase the comedic level of flirting. "I would die if you didn't love me back! Please, I'm in agony, never let me go, kiss me and tell me it's going to be okay!" Kyle breaks into a small smile. Lydia's tears quiet a little bit.

"Did it hurt when you guys fell from Heaven?" I ask. They both groan at the horrible pick-up line. I smile, trying to make myself laugh and trying to do anything to make them smile again.

"I must be a snowflake, because I've totally fallen for you." I make myself flash them a typical Amari grin, trying to lift their spirits before I break down and make it all worse.

"Shut up," Lydia sniffles. Kyle smiles a bit, but it eventually fades again.

"30 seconds!" warns a Peacekeeper, and I take my friends into one last tight hug.

"You have to get home," Lydia says, sniffling.

"We'll never forgive you if you don't make it back," Kyle says.

I nod. "Understood." There's a slight pause. "Hey, guys, I love you. Thanks for being my awesome friends."

"We love you too," Kyle says, and Lydia nods, reaching up to wipe her eyes again.

The Peacekeepers escort them out, and I have to sit there and do nothing but watch them leave.

I was never meant to be reaped… I never wanted to be thrown into this horrible fight to the death! Now, the entire nation is going to be watching my every move, from reaping to train ride to chariots, and judging me every step of the way. However, that doesn't mean I can give up. I have to keep fighting until the very end, for my friends and family. I'm my parents' only son, and I hold together our friend group, not to mention how well-liked I am.

Poofy Hair and I are escorted to the train, and I suddenly realize that I'm officially a tribute in the Hunger Games.

 _-Billie-_

My parents come in first. I get hugs from each of them.

My mother is crying as she hugs me, I feel her breath against my ear as if she's whispering to me, forgetting that I can't hear her and will never know what she's saying unless I see her lips making the words.

"Mom, I can't hear you," I say, my voice probably sounding as angry and upset as I feel. "I can't hear you unless I can see you."

She lets go of me, wiping her teary eyes. "Oh, sorry Billie. You've managed it so well sometimes I forget." _Also the fact that since I lost my hearing you've never been here,_ I think, and my lips go down into a scowl.

"You can win," Dad says, giving me a brief, awkward hug. "You can do it. Really," he says after letting go. I nod a little bit, not ready to let them in on my doubt after they've spent so time away from Mirabel and I.

"I love you," Mom says, and Dad echoes her.

"Yeah, I love you too," I say, but I'm pretty sure they can tell how empty the words are. They leave before the Peacekeepers even escort them out.

Mirabel comes in next, giving me a big, tight hug. She's crying pretty bad, and when I look into her glassy eyes, more tears start to form.

"I'm so sorry Billie…" she says, and I shake my head.

"It's okay," I say quietly, trying to reassure her but not getting very far. I wish I had faith in myself, but I don't. "I really wouldn't have wanted you to volunteer," I reassure her. She nods a little bit, more tears rolling down her cheeks.

I hug her again, tightly, and savor the feeling of her warm embrace, promising that I'm going to get home to her somehow but knowing that the words are empty.

"I love you so much," she says, and I know she means it.

"Thank you for all you've done for me," I tell her. "I love you too." She's escorted out by men in white.

The last to visit is Lucie. Her face is red and blotchy, covered in tears, as she buries her face in her hands. I give my best friend and big hug and she buries her face in in my neck, her body shaking with her tears.

We let go, and I try to stop my own tears, knowing that they're not helping.

"Blossom was a mess when I left her," Lucie whispers, "She didn't want us to see her like that…" I nod understandingly.

"It's fine. Tell her I love her," I say.

"I love you so much, Billie… Please, you need to make it back home."

I nod a little bit. "I'm going to do my very best." It's the only truth I can tell. My best may be good enough, but it also may be a failure. We stay in each other's arms, crying, until she's pulled away by a Peacekeeper.

I watch her go and know that from here, things only have the potential to become much worse.

 _ **A/N: 100 REVIEWS! THANK YOU SO MUCH! It really gives me motivation to keep writing.**_

 _ **Wow, we're officially halfway done with reapings! This is getting exhausting and miserable, but oh well. Man, Amari reminds me of a mini-Diesel, to be honest. I dunno, maybe it's just me.**_

 _ **I've been updating my blog for SYOT stuff (so far just for this story) called celtic- syot- shenanigans . blogspot . com ! I've been putting up escorts and mentors so far. I'm still working out formatting stuff because I'm really new to blogspot, but I think so far it's not too bad!**_

 _ **ALSO, my good friend Wetstar just started a partial SYOT called Magnets: The 44**_ _ **th**_ _ **Hunger Games, and is in need of tributes! Even though your tribute will definitely die, Jess is a GREAT writer and your tribute will be well-loved! PLEASE go check it out and send them lots of love and tributes!**_

 _ **I think that's all I've got so far!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Changing it up! Now that I'm halfway done with reapings, which out of all the tributes are the standouts for you and why?**_

 _ **Thanks to my D6 submitters, let me know how I did with your tributes!**_

 _ **SCORES:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 36**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 51**_

 _ **Dreamer: 317**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 76**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 86**_

 _ **epictomguy: 24**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 42**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **FlawlessCatastrophe: 12**_

 _ **xGred-Forgex: 31**_

 _ **GryffindorOnFire: 9**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 214**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 12**_

 _ **Jess: 381**_

 _ **Josephm611: 72**_

 _ **Kate: 243**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 97**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 61**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 71**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 75**_

 _ **Red Roses (Guest): 5**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 66**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 17**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **Sinfonian Legend: 355**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 5**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 61**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 76**_


	9. D7 Reaping

_-Briella Delani, 17: LokiThisIsMadness-_

When I wake up that morning, there's a mysterious lack of warmth next to me. I sit up, yawning, and see a figure sitting on the edge of the bed, her dark brown hair still sticking up slightly from last night. She smokes a cigarette. I watch her for a second, staying still. If she knows I'm awake, her natural peace will be messed up. She's so fucking hot. Oh fuck.

I watch quietly for a few seconds before I sit up and Andy turns around. Even when she's bed-ridden, she's still beautiful.

"Good morning," she says. I stretch out, my toes curling and making a small noise.

"Morning," I yawn. "What time is it?"

"Quarter after ten, just about," she says, stretching.

"Oh, wow," I say, yawning a bit. "I slept in big time."

"I couldn't wake you," she says smiling and crawling over to kiss my forehead. "You were getting rest and I couldn't."

"No, it's fine. Even if I wanted to get up at the crack of dawn to work, I wouldn't be able to get enough hours in for it to be truly worthwhile."

Andy nods, "That's what I thought, too."

I get out of bed, stretching and yawning again. I haven't gotten a good night of sleep in… A year, really. I never sleep in. And lately I've had even later nights and even earlier mornings of work, saving up to get something nice to give to Andy for her last reaping. Of course, when she asked, I told her that I wanted to bolster up more funds for the small apartment we share, but that's not the case at all.

Her hazel eyes watch me brush my teeth and try to deal with my own wavy brown mess. She watches me as I choose to wear my favorite black leather jacket, a simple off-white T-shirt, and a pair of olive green pants for the reaping. I put on a ring that she gave me, even though the blue ring doesn't exactly match the outfit. It was from Andy, and I wear it every day.

I look in the mirror, willing my eyes to look green, though they appear a light hazel instead. I like their color anyways, I suppose. I suppose it's a good thing that they aren't green. Green eyes were part of my family for generations, and I'm not exactly fond of my parents. They made me choose between them and the girl I loved. I was done with their shit, I chose Andy. And I'm so glad I did, because it was the best decision I ever made in this horrible shit-hole in which I live. I prefer not to be reminded of my family after all they put me through.

Andy puts her head on my shoulder, her lips curled up in a smirkish-smile. She has that look about her…

"You look super hot," she says, kissing the side of my neck.

"Thanks," I say quietly, even though I barely see it.

Andy glances at the clock. "Y'know, we still have some time before the reapings… What would you like to do in that time then?" she smiles at me, her eyes playing with me mischievously. She takes me by the shoulder, spinning me around and kissing me. She tastes so familiar and sweet, and so like Andy, and I know that everything will be alright. I realize it was probably stupid of me to get dressed for the reapings because I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be dressed for much longer.

Andy lies me back and I let her. I'm plenty a strong person, sure, but every once in a while I'll let her take charge. She trails kisses down my chin and sucks lightly on my collar bone. Her hands push my wrists down onto the bed, and I let her, savoring how it feels.

"That jacket still looks so good on you," she purrs.

"You have good taste," I remark with a smile, alluding to how she bought me the jacket a while ago.

"I know," she says. I smile a bit.

"We probably shouldn't fuck before the reaping," I say quietly, angling my head so Andy can kiss me under the chin.

"I know," she sighs, "I guess I should've gotten you up earlier for that."

I smile a bit, but my mind goes to the worst possible scenario: Andy getting reaped. I honestly don't know what I'd do if that happened. I suppose I would have to volunteer for her. I'd probably go off and die for her, but only after being glorified and fattened up like a fucking turkey.

"Riella?" Andy looks at me, suddenly looking concerned.

"Sorry," I say. "I was just thinking about the reaping. What would happen if you were reaped."

"If I were reaped, I would get back to you."

"I would volunteer for you."

"No, you wouldn't. Remember, we agreed not to volunteer for each other."

I would volunteer for her, though.

"Don't worry about it," Andy says. "It's my last year. We'll be fine. Alright?"

"But what _if_ -"

"Riella. Please. Don't worry yourself like this, alright?" Andy kisses my cheek, my jaw, my neck. I try to forget about it and only think of her, but that's not happening. I can't look at her without thinking about one of us being reaped and having to go into the Games.

I know if I were to go in I could do it. I could fight and win. I know I'm able. I have the work ethic. But I definitely wouldn't want to.

"We should probably get going," Andy says, glancing at the clock.

I sigh a bit and nod, "Yeah, I suppose."

Andy takes my hand and together we start out for the reaping (but only after fixing our make-out hair).

As we walk down the dirt path, hand-in-hand, I feel so free. I can finally be who I want to be, instead of who I was forced to be around my parents. Andy's made me so much happier. She crept up on me, really she did. I've never been a social person, really, but she was persistent enough to win my heart. We became good friends quickly, and soon I realized I couldn't live without her. This time I've spent with Andy has been the best of my life. I've never felt happier than I was with her.

We go to the desk and get checked in. I don't flinch when they prick me with the needle. Andy and I don't let go of each other as we go to our sections. Since the 17 section is right behind the 18 section, we can still hold hands if Andy's in the back row of the 18 and I'm in the front of the 17. We stay together, talking quietly as more people fill in for the reaping. I prepare myself to hear the name Andreia Barreil be reaped and start planning out how I might react without seeming weak or stupid. I always plan for the worst. Why would you expect anything better?

I feel a little bit weird being next to all these skinny girls. They haven't worked like I have, but seeing their skinny figures and twig-like appendages makes me feel weird about the bit of muscle I have. I feel insecure, worried that they think I'm butch or would call me the "man" of the relationship (a stereotype that's totally hurtful and offensive. We are both the women of the relationship. That's why we're _lesbians_.). Andy squeezes my hand and I take a breath, feeling reassured.

I look at the other 17-year-old girls, daring them silently to give us a weird look. I'm not afraid to punch people who laugh at us right in the fucking face. I've done it before. Andy is the only one who can calm me down when someone says something rude, and even she's exhausted after.

The mayor starts off the reaping, and I don't let go of Andy's hand. Then, the escort takes the stage. With tan skin, spiky black hair with red tips, Cobra Richie is not the most disgusting Capitolite I've ever seen.

"Welcome, District 7, welcome! What a beautiful day it is for a reaping, is it not?!" Nobody really responds. Even though our District usually gives strong tributes, it's not even close to excited about the Games. "Of course. Well, please do know that my pronouns are they/them! Nothing else!" Cobra sounds irritated, giving a pointed look to someone in the crowd of District 7 people. I sigh. This is always how the reaping goes.

"Anyways, let's start the reaping with a video!" The screen lights up with scenes from rebellion and I watch, glancing at Andy who just looks bored and feeling nervous and worried. After the video fades to black, Cobra goes over to the first glass bowl.

"Ahem! Alright, it's time to choose our lucky District 7 female!" They reach their hand into a glass bowl, and my heart starts to pound. _I just know it's going to be Andy…_

"Briella Delani!"

 _It's not Andy._

Andy squeezes my hand. "Don't volunteer for me," I warn her, "We had an agreement." I don't her to go in my place. I don't let her go. Cobra _tsks_ impatiently. Suddenly, I hear footsteps coming in. Shit, Peacekeepers! I can't be that kid who had to be forced onto the stage by Peacekeepers! I know I have a lot to make up for looking weak and freezing before, so I quickly let go of Andy's hand, although it feels like an arrow piercing my heart, and start to the stage quickly before the Peacekeepers can touch me.

I let myself feel angry, and violent, at the damn Capitol and the hell they put us through. I shove a few girls out of my way, not even caring though they give me dirty looks. Fine.

Some people look like they recognize me, remember that couple of two girls walking together and kissing, I can see in their eyes that they're judging me because of what I have with Andy, and I don't care.

I shove one last girl aside before climbing the steps to join Cobra, seeing their surgically-altered cat eyes, golden, staring at me, not sure what to think. I ball my hands into tight fists and hold my head up, refusing to show any fear. I'm going to prove to them that I'm strong.

"Alright, and now for our boy!" Cobra goes to the boy's bowl, and I realize that this is going to be the first time I'm going to meet my competition. _He'd better not outdo me,_ I think. Part of me hopes it's one of those boys that spit at/cussed at/insulted Andy and I, preferably one of the ones I punched.

Cobra reads the name. "Kendal Beck!" I don't know that name.

A boy steps out from the 16 section. I don't recognize him, but he looks fairly average for the District with dark hair, sort of on the long side, tan skin, and brown eyes. His eyes hold a look of fear, little tears appearing in them. He bites his lip, walking up to the stage slowly. He looks at me, his eyes harboring fear.

"Wonderful! Shake hands, you two!" I shake his hand tightly, and his grip is weak.

"When you talk about my wonderful performance after the reaping today remember, they/them!" The District just kind of sighs at that.

Cobra escorts us both back into the Justice Building.

 _-Kendal Beck, 16: Wetstar-_

I'm awakened bright and early by my own body clock. I wipe my eyes, looking over at the clock and see that it's only 8:04. I sigh quietly, deciding to sit awake for a bit before going downstairs. I go over to my nightstand and pick up a book.

District 7's library is pitiful, small, and all the books smell like rotten eggs, but I still love to go there. I like to read and learn new things, even if people jeer at me for it.

I open the worn book with yellow pages that have probably once been… White? Definitely not yellow. I lay back, flipping through the pages. Every time I see the page with a pink, yellow, and blue flag at the top labelled _PANSEXUALITY,_ my heart flutters. I think it's half with nerves, but half with excitement. I'm glad I figured it out, which really is exciting, but at the same time I haven't exactly told my family yet, which makes me really nervous. I read on that page for a while, reassured by how strongly I identify with everything written on the page.

I flip further into the book, stopping when I see the other page I have interest in, a flag with different shades of gray going into shades of blue. I read through that part again, too, and feel even more excited but also more nervous.

 _After the reaping_ , I tell myself, _I'll tell them after the reaping. Before Mom and Dad have to go again._

I shake a little bit. Yeah, that makes me feel twice as nervous. Already nervous for the reaping, but also nervous for what comes after. I know that my parents care about me a lot, but I just can't get into my Mom's head sometimes. I know my Aunt Linnette loves me too, I know that I'll be accepted, I'm just… Nervous. I can't explain why. I just am.

I sigh quietly, putting the book away. _I can't freak myself out too much_ , I think.

Instead, I pick out another book to read for the morning. A fiction book with not a lot of plot, but for some reason it still holds my interest. I read and read, not able to get enough, engrossed in imagining the actions happen. I can practically feel it.

I'd just gotten to the good part, biting my lip at imagining something so vivid, when a knock on my door sends me out of my fictional world and back to the reality that I'm in District 7 and today is reaping day.

"Kendal!" Aunt Linnette calls, poking her head in. I put the book away quickly as she smiles at me. "We have some breakfast ready for you," she says.

I nod a bit, waiting until she leaves to slowly uncover and hide the book away again, hidden with the helpful book I found titled _Sexuality and Genders Explained!_ I get out of bed slowly, sighing at being plucked from such a good fictional world right at the good part.

I get dressed, putting on a slightly ratty brown dress shirt and nice brown dress pants. I run my fingers through my dark hair, looking at it in the mirror and smiling. I'm not dramatically opposed to how I look. I like my hair shaggy and long, I like my eyes. If only I could be just a little bit taller!

Once I'm dressed, I go out to the small kitchen/living area. It's so strange to see my parents sitting there. My father travels to the camps of houses located deeper in the vast District 7 woods. My mother works for a committee that was made in an effort to stop deforestation. After all, if District 7 ran out of trees, we would lose all of our worth to the Capitol. We could become the next District 13 if we lose everything. She and the others in her group travel around and plant new trees in parts of the District that were abandoned because of the lack of good trees.

Together, my parents are changing the whole entire District. In different ways, sure, but they're really doing it. Unfortunately for me, that means that they're never in the same place at once, and both of them travel so much that they agreed that the best thing they could do for me would be to have me live with my Aunt Linnette, who has been so good to me. I love her so much.

I see my father and aunt laughing together, and smile. It's so easy to tell that they're related, and I think that's a good thing. Even though he's been away so long, as soon as he gets back the relationship picks up just where it left off. There are no awkward moments with my father around. I appreciate him so much.

I suddenly remember that I'm going to come out to all three of them after the reaping, and then I remember that I could be reaped, and I start to get nervous. I take the bread that's offered to me and thank my Aunt quietly, taking a seat and trying not to look nervous.

"I know the reaping is scary, Kendal," my Aunt says, putting a hand gently on my back. "But you have nothing to worry about, alright? You'll be fine."

I nod and sigh a little bit. I wish I could tell them right now, get it over with, but the reaping is a stressful time for them just like it is for me, and I don't want to add to that. I'd rather wait until after the reaping, when we have a little bit of relief.

"So, Kendal, what have you been reading lately?" my father asks, smiling. He taught me just like he'd teach any other pupils of his. He was the one that took me to the library and he was the one that gave me such a love of reading. He was nothing but encouraging when I said I was going to read every book in that library. It's certainly small enough, I could read everything in there. I still want to read it all, and more.

I blank in that moment, though. All I can think of that I've been reading is that book about genders and sexualities. "The newest book I've checked out is about-" I look around the room, trying to make it smooth, "Gravity."

"Yeah? How about it?"

"It's really interesting," I say. "I haven't had much time to get too far into it because of other school stuff."

"Ah, yes. You'll have to let me know how it is next time I'm around. How was that book about… What were you reading about last time I was here?"

"The history of the jabberjay," I say.

"Oh, yes! How was that?"

"Really interesting!" I suddenly feel really excited at discussing the book. "It went into the science behind it and I didn't understand a lot of it but what I did understand was super cool! Did you know that jabberjays have an intense hatred of loud and sudden noises?" I launch into a discussion about the book, my father listening and looking truly genuinely interested. I love him because he isn't just interested because I'm his son and he's obliged to, he's really interested in what I'm saying. My mom doesn't look nearly as interested, and my Aunt still smiles but I know she doesn't care too much either. It's nice of them to let me ramble anyways.

"Wow!" he says when I'm done explaining the history of the jabberjay and the effect it had when used during the Dark Days. "Sounds like you learned a lot!"

"Sure did." I grin. I'm so glad I inherited his love of learning.

"That's a wonderful thing," he says, smiling softly. I love my family so much, they're the best. I wish Mom and Dad were around more often, but I understand that they're going to change the District for the better. I get up, noticing the pile of letters and numbers on the kitchen table. My father uses them for teaching, and I always thought they were really neat when I was a kid. I decide to take a random letter, just in case the worst were to happen.

"I have to go," I say, putting whatever letter I picked in my pocket, "I promised to meet Agata before the reaping!"

"Alright," My mom hugs me, my father gives me a tight hug and my aunt hugs me and kisses my forehead. I smile at them before I head out the door.

It doesn't take long for me to find Agata, with her dark skin, two tight pigtails, and her usual look of annoyance. My best friend is actually a really sweet girl, so it's funny that she's got such an annoyed expression on all the time.

"Beck!" she says.

I smile, remembering when she used to call me by my last name thinking it was my first name. I let it go for a bit before asking why she called me by my last name, and she blinked at me and asked, "That's not your first name?"

I smile at the memory of how we met. I didn't mean to make a best friend that day, I just wanted to find a new book. She was the one that was sprawled out enough to take up the entire gosh darn aisle! I just wanted to get my book so I asked her what was wrong. From there, what can I say, we hit it off. She's a year younger than me and likes to listen to my weird facts from reading books. Sometimes I can tell she's just listening to listen, but she listens all the same.

"Hey Agata," I say, smiling even though I feel nervous.

"Hey Shortie," she grins.

I huff, blowing some of the shaggy dark bangs out of my eyes. "It's not fair that you're a centimeter taller than me. You're one year younger than I am!"

She grins at me, "Sometimes life's not fair, Shorty!"

I roll my eyes at her, but laugh. Eventually, though, the nervousness of the reaping begins to set in again. I bite my lip but she can see the anxiety in my face.

"You okay?" she asks, immediately switching from teasing to concerned.

"Just… Nervous for the reaping. Really nervous."

"Yeah, me too," she says. "But I'm sure we'll be just fine."

"I hope so…" I bite my lip. Together, we start walking to the Town Square. It's a really nice day. The sky is blue, the sky has fluffy white clouds floating lazily around, the summer sun is shining and warm… A beautiful day, if only it wasn't a day that two teens would be sent off to die.

We reach the Square. I squeak a little bit as the prick hurts my finger and they take blood. They let us go and I have to say goodbye to Agata.

"Bye," I say, taking her into a hug.

"Bye," she says, hugging me tightly. We let go and separate with one last wave.

The mayor says some words to begin and the Square goes quiet. Then, Cobra Richie comes onto the stage. I always wondered why they have cat eyes when their name is Cobra, but I hope I'm never close enough to them to ask.

They welcome us fondly and start the reaping. I start to get really worried. _What if Agata is reaped!?_

They choose a name from the bowl and Cobra reads. "Briella Delani!" The camera zooms in on the 17 section, where a girl stands, looking slightly shocked, holding the hand of another girl standing in front of her in the 18 section, whispering to each other hurriedly. The Peacekeepers start to come over, and the girl that was reaped quickly makes her way to the stage, shoving people out of her way, looking angry and determined.

"Alright, and now for our boy!" They go over to the boy's bowl and pick a name.

"Kendal Beck!"

I freeze. My heart beats harder. It gets harder to breathe. I realize that I'm going to be in the Hunger Games, forced to be in a fight to the death with other teens like myself. I feel slightly sick, terrified. I start up to the stage, trying to tune out Agata's cries. They're quiet, but I know they're hers.

I make it up to the stage. Cobra smiles. "Wonderful! Shake hands you two!"

I feel sick, scared, horrified. I shake Briella's hand, trying not to let the fear show. Her grip is tight, I try to seem confident even though I'm horrified.

Then, we're escorted back into the rooms of the Justice Building, where we're going to say goodbye to our friends and family… Maybe for good.

I take a seat on a comfortable chair and pull the letter out of my pocket, looking to see which one I got. It's an orange letter H. I try to think of something that's significant to me that begins with the letter H. I'll figure something out.

Agata is the first to come to see me. She's already crying, practically tackling me into a hug. I hug her back tightly. She lets out sobs, hugging me tighter and tighter and burying her face in my neck. She sobs quietly and gasps out, "Kendal you have to win!" She hugs me tightly.

"I'm going to… Do my best." I'm starting to get choked up. I don't want to leave Agata, I don't want to leave my home, the place I love, my District… I hug her tighter and she hugs me so tightly I can barely breathe. I don't care about that, though, of course. Having her here and close is important for me.

"I love you," she says, hugging me. "Please, you have to win…"

"Love you too," I say quietly, trying to keep in the tears for her sake. We continue to hug, her crying quietly, me holding it together for her, before the Peacekeepers say "Time's up!"

"No!" she says, sounding horrified that we're going to have to say goodbye, especially so soon. "Kendal!"

"Agata, it's going to be alright…" I say quietly, my voice shaking, "Agata-"

Her warmth is ripped away from me as a couple of Peacekeepers escort her out. "Kendal!" she shouts, sobbing still, "You have to win!" I hear a door slam and know she's gone. I wipe my eyes, horrified that this could be the last time I ever see her.

My Aunt Linnette comes in next. She looks shaken, but is fairly composed. "Kendal, honey…" She hugs me, gentler and softer than Agata's desperate hug. Finally, I start to break down. This is too much for one guy to handle… I close my eyes and let the tears escape my eyes, as quietly as I can.

"Kendal, listen, honey. Are you listening?" I sniffle and nod a bit, about to apologize for crying but she continues talking before I can. "You can win. Alright? Please, don't trick yourself into thinking that you can't."

I can see from the look in her eyes that she isn't just saying that because she wants to give me false hope. She's saying it genuinely. She genuinely thinks I have a shot.

"Aunt Linnette-"

"Listen, Kendal. Many a 16-year-old has won the Games. And many from District 7 have as well. You're on the older side, you're from a District where hard work and perseverance are valued. You have an edge over other tributes. You can win, I know you can win if you put your mind to it and don't give up. The Careers are strong, of course, but you have strengths and smarts that they don't. So never give up, alright? You can win."

I nod, swallowing hard and sniffling, trying to stop the tears. "I won't give up. I promise."

"That's my Kendal." She gives me a last hug and a kiss on the forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too," I say. "Thank you, Aunt Linnette. I really needed it." I wipe my eyes.

"Sure thing." She leaves without the Peacekeepers having to tell her to.

The last people to come visit are my parents. My mother looks like she had been crying, but stopped. My father looks solemn and sad, but holding it together. I know it's all for me, and that they'd like to break. My parents wrap me up in a hug.

"Kendal," My mother says, struggling not to start crying again. "I'm so sorry we haven't been here for you…"

"I understand," I say quietly. "Really."

"We're not going anywhere," my father says, "We're not going to leave home again. We're going to stay a family. We'll be here for you when you come back."

"Dad, _if_ -"

"Kendal," my mother's voice shakes, "We need you to be home. Please. You can win, you can do it. Please, you have to-"

"I'm going to do my best."

My parents give me a hug and each of them kiss me. We stay like that for a while, and I just enjoy being with them. "We love you," my father says.

"I love you too," I say, struggling to hold it together. We hug until the Peacekeepers tell them it's time for them to go, and they leave, giving one last pained look behind them at me.

 _I guess I'll have to tell them about my sexuality and gender if I get home from the Games alive._

Soon, Cobra appears and whisks my District partner and me to the train.

 _-Briella-_

Andy is the first to visit. She's already choked up with tears.

"Riella!" she says, wrapping her arms around me and burying her face in my neck. I hug her back, as tightly as I can. I can't believe it's coming to this.

"Please," she cries quietly. "You have to win! Please…"

"Don't worry," I say, trying to fend off thoughts of all the horrible things that could happen, for Andy's sake. "I'm going to do my best. I'm on the older side… I have a chance."

"I should've volunteered for you," she cries quietly. "I should've gotten rid of that deal and just volunteered!"

"No way," I say, my voice taking on a hard edge. "I never would've forgiven you if you'd done that. Never." I mean that.

She wipes her eyes and holds out a chain to me. "For that ring," she says, sniffling. I look at the ring and nod, taking it, before I remember.

"I got you a gift," I say, "To celebrate your last reaping. It's… In my dresser drawer."

She starts sobbing again, hugging me and saying how she should've volunteered. I hold her close, kissing her neck and jaw gently until she composes herself enough for me to kiss her lips.

Too soon, the Peacekeepers come to take her away.

"I love you, Riella!" she shouts.

"I love you too Andy!" I call after her, trying to control tears. She's gone.

The next visitors I have are unexpected.

"Briella," my mother says, her gray eyes hard.

"Mother," I say, composing myself. "Father."

"Briella," he greets.

"Why are you here? Here to kiss my ass?"

My father looks pained. My mother looks angry. "Briella, we came to tell you… That you have successfully soiled your life. You have become a young woman who is reckless and making horrendous decisions. We did not come to tell you anything that is not true. We do not approve of who you've become. But your time in the Games is going to change you, and we hope it will make you see the folly of the life you've been living."

My Dad doesn't say anything, he just stands behind Mom, just like he fucking did when she told me to choose between them and girl I love! I feel overwhelmed with anger and rage, practically blinded by it.

"I don't regret a single damn thing!" I shout at them, angry tears coming to my eyes. "I don't regret leaving! I don't regret a single fucking second of my time away from you! Andy's treated me better than you ever have and ever will, and if I end up coming back home alive I don't want to see you ever again! And if I come home in a wooden fucking box, you'd better not have the fucking audacity to go to my funeral, you're not welcome there!" A hurricane is whirling inside as I shove my parents forcefully towards the exit, not caring.

"Go!" I shout, "Leave me! Never show your face in front of me again!"

They go out the door without another word. I have a little bit of time to compose myself, put Andy's ring on the chain she gave to me, and clasp it around my neck. Then, Cobra takes myself and my District partner to the train.

I watch out the window, thinking of nothing but Andy as we leave the only place I've ever known to go into the unfamiliar.

 _ **A/N: Cobra's character was intentionally made to be rude about their pronouns and in no way reflects my opinion of genderneutral/non-binary individuals. I have many NB friends and I love them, and I know they totally aren't like that at all!**_

 _ **I'm back with another update! Yay! Thank you D7 submitters, these tributes were awesome to write! I hope I did well with them!**_

 _ **So the D8 male spot opened up and I got a PM with interest in submitting, so the story unfortunately is going to have to be put on hold until he's received. Don't worry, the deadline is on the 20**_ _ **th**_ _ **, and if I don't get him by then I'll be putting a tribute of my own in that will be a bloodbath.**_

 _ **Alright, so I'm still going to be updating the blog and we're officially over halfway done with reapings! Yay!**_

 _ **Again, my friend Wetstar (AKA Jess) is doing a partial SYOT that's going to be fucking amazing and really needs tributes! It's called Magnets and you should check it out!**_

 _ **So I'm still in high school and we started late so my finals week falls on the last week of January, so I probably won't update again until early or mid-February. Sorry it's going to be a long wait, but I have another story to worry about and finals and a band festival and a 6 page paper to write… It's going to be stressful so yeah sorry. Maybe I'll update again sometime this week, just a heads up.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: To my D7 submitters: How did you like your tributes? Everyone else: Which one stood out more or why?**_

 _ **P.S. I am determined to have 84 memes that come from this story. So far, my friends and I have four, including Gravity Fucking Stowers, Kendal reads porn, and Vidarr not understanding that his wife is fucking pregnant. So if you find anything funny enough to be meme-worthy, let me know.**_

 _ **SCORES:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 36**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 51**_

 _ **Dreamer: 337**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 81**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 96**_

 _ **epictomguy: 24**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 42**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **xGred-Forgex: 36**_

 _ **GryffindorOnFire: 9**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 234**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 12**_

 _ **Jess: 396**_

 _ **Josephm611: 82**_

 _ **Kate: 243**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 97**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 61**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 81**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 80**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 71**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 22**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **Sinfonian Legend: 375**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 5**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 61**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 86**_


	10. D8 Reaping

_-Felicity Johnson, 17- Kyoko Rose-_

I wake up and feel… Normal. It's been forever since I've awakened and felt so normal. It's almost like I'm not… Ah, never mind.

I stretch out and sit up, my toes grazing the floor of my bedroom. It's so quiet and peaceful, and I don't even have morning sickness. How nice. I didn't think I'd be free of it until the day my life would change forever. I pat my swollen tummy. As long as this baby doesn't take the attention away from me, I suppose.

I get out of bed, my feet and back hurting at having to carry the weight in my tummy. And I have to go to the reaping today… Ugh. I used to be excited for the reaping, really. The Capitol was always the home of the Gods to me, so colorful and beautiful. I used to watch in awe of the beautiful people there, and want to be there with them. But ever since my mother told me what actually happened to my father, I… I've been struggling. The Capitol has done so much for us and I really want to like them, but at the same time… My father died in their Games. I'm still eligible to suffer the same fate. So it's a love-hate relationship.

I comb my wavy dark hair, looking at my face in the mirror. I sigh at seeing my brown eyes, that I got from my father. Then I take a step back to see my full body, sighing. I just keep on getting bigger and bigger. I can't wait until this kid is born and I can be thin and pretty again. I change into a pair of dress pants and a loose-fitting shirt, disappointed that it still makes me look fat and pregnant. I feel horrible, and would like to sit in bed all day and do nothing, but even pregnant women have to work around here. I spend my time sewing, doing indoors work that isn't too physically strenuous while I'm pregnant.

I wasn't able to hide the fact I was pregnant for very long, even before I was starting to show. My mother could tell I was acting weird and she could tell when I was lying about it. My back is killing me from the strain of the baby and I groan from the pain as I go downstairs.

My mother is there waiting for me. She eats a tiny breakfast and hands me a larger plate. She's been giving me bigger servings since she found out, for the sake of the baby. "Good morning Mom!" I say. I feel deprived of love and attention when she ignores me like this!

"Good morning Felicity," she says quietly, with a sincere smile.

I hear steps coming toward the kitchen, and when I look up my sister Emerald comes in. Her blonde hair couldn't have come from our mother. Like my brown eyes came from my Dad, so did her hair. She also has the palest skin of my immediate family, probably like him as well.

"Good morning Emerald," Mom says, taking the attention off of me. I whine at having the attention taken away from where it really belongs: me.

" _Moooooom_ ," I say irritably.

"Sorry Felicity," she says, smiling at me. Better. My sister takes a seat by me at the table.

"Why is Felicity's plate bigger than mine?!" she whines. "I want a big plate!" She stomps her feet. "I want a big plate!"

Way for her to take the attention away from me! I hate her sometimes! She always throws tantrums to get what she wants! Bitch, I'm pregnant, I get the big plate!

I quickly decide to leave to go to the reaping.

First, I meet my best friend Annalisa. "Hey!" I go over to her, my feet aching with every step because of the weight I have to carry.

"Felicity!" she smiles at me, waving a bit but looking shy in the crowd. Her green eyes sparkle with kindness.

"Hi Annalisa," I smile at her and give her a hug in greeting.

"How are you?" I ask her.

"I'm scared," she says quietly, biting her lip nervously. "After all, this is my first reaping…"

"Oh, don't worry," I tell her. "I took tesserae and I'm 17. My name's in there a lot more than yours is."

"If you're reaped, I'll volunteer for you," she says, looking stiff out of fear.

"No you aren't," I say sternly. "You think I'd die? Even with a baby I can still win. Besides, I probably won't get reaped anyways. And neither will you."

"Alright…" she says, sighing. She gives me one last hug and then I go to find my boyfriend Jonathan. This is his second year safe from the reaping, he's 20. He's so lucky. He's really the love of my life, kind and gentle and always there for me. His eyes are bright and honest and true, and he's very honest and loyal and dependable. I honestly thought he was going to be mad or leave when I confessed to him that I was pregnant, but he didn't. He stayed. He promised to always be there for me and said that we were a team and we'd parent this child together. He showers me in attention and love more than anyone, as well, and I love that. He always agrees with me as well, which is great too.

"Hey," he says, taking me into a hug, "How are you?"

"I wasn't sick this morning," I say, smiling at him.

"Oh? That's good." His beautiful blue eyes smile at me.

I smile. "Yeah. I can't wait until we're both safe by then."

"By that time we'll have our baby." He smiles at me and I smile back. My boyfriend is so kind and gentle and he definitely treats me like a queen. Maybe someday when I'm not at risk of being reaped we'll get married.

"Yeah… We will…" It scares me, but the thought of being reaped scares me more.

"You're going to be alright," Jonathon says, and his smile makes me think that everything's going to be okay. He leans down to give me a kiss and then I go to the reaping.

I go to the seventeen-year-old section for girls, and see the surrounding people giving me looks. That's okay, though, I do enjoy the attention it gives me. Having the attention of everyone that surrounds me is what validates me. I pat my tummy again as the reaping begins with some words from the mayor.

The escort, Jessamine Di'Avile Montyquile, takes the stage. She's such a Capitolite, with a long, beautiful name. She resembles a porcelain doll, small and thin and pale, unlike me. I feel like a mess compared to her, with my huge belly and my wavy, long, dark hair and tan skin. I want to be in the Capitol, but at the same time the Capitol killed my father.

"Welcome, welcome, to the reaping!" Jessamine squeaks, her voice pitchy and odd sounding. I admire her hair, she has so much of it and it's done so beautifully… She's not too far from my age, by the looks of it, maybe… 18? 19?

The video ends and Jessamine announces, "Let's start with the ladies!" She walks over to the glass bowl calmly, the one with all the names of the girls, one of which is mine. Her hand goes in the bowl, stays there for a while, and finally pulls out a sheet of paper.

She clears her throat into the microphone and squeaks out, "Felicity Johnson!"

I squeak with the realization that the name that was called belongs to… Me.

No, I can't be reaped! I have a child to think of! Jonathon and Annalisa! What will my mother and Emerald do without me!? I'm suddenly overcome by fear as she calls my name again and I start off to the stage, my legs shaking. Tears pour out of my eyes as I reach the stage, seeing Jessamine in person, so beautifully thin and small, and next to her being fat and pregnant and on my way to a fight to the death… Tears pour out of my eyes as Jessamine walks over to the boy's bowl, still smiling.

"Our male tribute is…" She pauses and I suck in a breath, getting control of myself. "Nautica Martinez!"

A boy comes out from the 16 section. He has shaggy brown hair and looks…. Nervous but determined. Which I understand. He's going to want to get home as much as I do. He makes his way up to the stage, his expression unwavering.

"And there you have it, District 8! Your tributes, Felicity Johnson and Nautica Martinez!"

The District applauds nervously for us, afraid of the consequences if they don't.

 _-Nautica Martinez, 16- the victor of panem-_

 _Dear Father:_

 _Today is yet another reaping day, and another reaping day makes for another opportunity to see you, possibly. Even prisoners get to see the reaping, of course. Nobody can avoid it, especially not them._

 _Three years until you're freed. I've been keeping track of the days even if everyone else has given up or forgotten. By that time, I'll be 19, of course, and safe from the reaping. Either that or I'll have gone through the Games. Don't count me out if I do get reaped, though, my dear father. You'd be proud of how far I've grown since you were locked up._

 _Mom still hasn't said a word about you. This is what you get for selling stolen clothing, and definitely what you get for being caught by the Peacekeepers._

 _I must be going for the reaping now. Hopefully the name you hear doesn't belong to your son._

 _-Nautica_

I sigh, realizing that my letters have been getting shorter and shorter. Ever since the father got locked up I've been writing, but it's becoming more and more of a chore and honestly I dunno if I'm even going to keep up with it until the 87th Games. I put it in an envelope and address it to Jack Martinez, Cell #08A in the District Prison.

I feel like I owe my Dad the courtesy of writing to him. After all, he gave me all the newest holograms and toys when I was a child. He made my childhood sparkle. It was nice, being so well-off, having such a nurturing family. Too bad he got caught and shut away in jail. Too bad my Mom decided to forget about him and start fucking the tailor she works with. Too bad, too bad, too bad.

I get up out of bed and start to get ready for the reaping. I mess with my hair until it's right. Looks are important, and sometimes swindling someone can be the difference between having a fate like my father's and being free. I put on my nice clothes, putting the supplies I'll need for the morning in my coat, hidden away.

I go out to the kitchen. My Mom's not here. Probably with him. She thinks I don't notice it but I do. She thinks I sleep late but I don't. She thinks I don't notice her coming into the house with messed up hair and make-up and wardrobe at 5 in the morning. I do.

I eat breakfast by myself. I've always been an early riser and a light sleeper. You can never let your guard down, doing what I do. I dust off my plates and put them back. I don't mind the silence, really. It's refreshing. Especially after what I do.

I flip through the weapons I have stored in my jacket, just in case I'm… challenged by some poor sap who doesn't know better. Then, I go out, giving a pointed glare at the tailor's place where my mother works and practically lives. Bitch is lucky I go out and make a name for myself, because if I didn't she'd not be able to make enough for both of us.

So maybe what I do is considered "dirty" or "illegal," but I really don't give a fuck about that. It's the life you have to live to make it around here.

As I walk, I suddenly hear yelling and commotion and am immediately drawn toward the noise. I quickly head to the noise to see a group of people surrounding two people.

I recognize the first one immediately as my best friend and gang mate Ralph Lauren. We met a while back at a bar when our gang was challenged. I didn't mean to make such a close bond with the kid, we only meant it to be an alliance that lasted in the time we were fighting them, but we really hit it off. Ralph and I are a great team, even if he's two years younger than me at 14. I remember watching his initiation into the District 8 Renegade when he was 13. He won his initiation fight, and still hasn't stopped bragging about it. I know how it feels, though, because I won my initiation fight when I was 13. I still have the scar to prove it, across my eyebrow. The girls go crazy for that, let me tell you.

Ralph's fighting another kid, who looks much more afraid than he is. Ralph will pick a fight with anyone for the dumbest reasons, and sometimes for no reason at all other than the fact that he feels in the mood. This kid looks to be one of the innocents. He puts up his fists, hands shaking, as Ralph attacks him. Man, Ralph's really good at hand-to-hand. It definitely helps when he's caught by guys two or three years older than him flirting with their girlfriends. I do that, too, of course, and the girls can't resist me. I get to pick and choose the ones I want, fill them up, and move on.

"Ralph!" I call to him, going around the circle to talk to him. "What are you doing, man?"

"I'm in the mood," he says simply, a smug smirk painting his face.

"What'd this kid do to you?"

"Nothing, really," shrugs Ralph.

"Who is this kid?"

"I dunno." He doesn't talk to me anymore before he charges at the guy, the poor innocent kid. I sigh.

I let Ralph get a good beating on him before I take him by the back of the neck, reminding him that we still have to report in before the reaping. I grab a hold on the weapon hidden in my coat. This is the riskiest part of my day. Together, we go to the gang HQ. When we get there, we hear muffled screams and see a girl all bound up.

"About time you two dumbasses showed up!" someone calls.

"Got her from the head of the rival gang!" someone else says.

I go over and examine the girl. She sure does look pretty, all tied up like that. She struggles against the binding, trying to scream but it being muffled. She has tan skin, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, and the most interestingly beautiful green eyes.

"My, aren't you lovely?" I muse. She struggles against the bounds. She must be his daughter because she's close to my age.

"Are we holding her for ransom?" I ask, turning back around.

"Possibly. Depends on how we're feeling."

I glance back at her. Her eyes give me a defiant look.

"You're going to have to decide what to do with her before the reaping."

"Oh yeah. That's today isn't it? I suppose we're not holding her for ransom then." The leader of the gang gets out his pistol. "Anyone want to cup a last feel?"

Maybe I would, but I don't say anything. Ralph looks at her and I know his hormones must be raging, but he keeps quiet. "Nautica, you can do the honors." He tosses the weapon to me, and I load it.

"This is what happens when you're caught by the District 8 Renegade, Sweetheart," I tell her with a sweet smile, before putting the gun to her temple and blasting her brains out. When that's done, I sigh a bit. That's part of the job. I have to say, though, that was pretty anticlimactic.

"Well, we should be off to the reaping," someone says as a couple of guys untie the body.

"We'll meet back here after it's over."

Someone scoffs. "Hopefully the bell's name isn't chosen. That'd sure be funny, huh?"

I think about it and laugh. "Yeah, it would be. That whore," I say, smirking, as Ralph and I walk to the reaping together.

The whole shindig is started with the mayor speaking some words and then the video playing. War. Terrible war. Don't make me sick. I've seen things even worse than that stupid video, and I'm just fine!

After the horrible play acting is over (blood does not behave like that when you're shot dead, trust me), the escort takes the stage. Jessamine doesn't delay much in getting on with it, probably because this is her first year being an escort. She's young, too. I bet I could woo her into giving me the favor, if I were to be reaped. And she's young like me so she'd totally be fooled, too.

She reaches into the girl's bowl and picks a name. "Felicity Johnson!" The girl comes out of the 17 section, and the first thing I notice is her huge tummy, full with a baby that was probably conceived by some sleazy guy she barely even knew. I chuckle. Poor little slut. I'd bet she's vulnerable and easy-to-manipulate, though.

Then, Jessamine goes over and picks the boy. "Nautica Martinez!" I blink. Shit, that's me… I suddenly feel a wave of nervousness come over me, but I start up to the stage. I'm not going to crack like that crazy bitch. No way in hell. I bet she's vulnerable enough that I could use her for what she's worth. If she's even worth anything, which I doubt.

I make it up to the stage Jessamine has us shake hands.

"And there you have it, District 8! Your tributes, Felicity Johnson and Nautica Martinez!"

The District applauds and we walk back to the Justice Building, my confidence unwavering.

My first visitor is Ralph. He comes in, unsure what to say or do. "Hey," he says, looking casual.

"Hey," I say, not letting my vulnerability show. That'd be the worst thing to do. I hear Crazy Bitch sobbing in the room next to mine. I give Ralph a quick hug, but not too long, and pat him on the back.

"Listen to me. If I don't come back, you have to keep going strong. You and the Renegade."

"Got it."

Death is something I've seen a lot of, something I've become numb to, really. I've killed and seen some of my own gang members arrested and dead. Of course there's still some lingering fear lying underneath, but I can avoid it.

"You could work your way in with the Careers," Ralph says, "You have the looks and the skill for it. You could manipulate them into letting you in and use them for what they're worth. You're good at it. You can do this. You'll be a Victor, and you'll be a hit. I know you can. And you will."

"Right," I say, nodding. I know he's right. I'm plenty confident in myself and know that I can do this no matter what. I can play them all off each other, I can charm and schmooze my way to Victory, and I know it.

"Are you taking your watch?"

I glance down at the ticking wristwatch, engraved with the symbol of the District 8 Renegade on the back. "Of course. It'll remind me that I come from a group of fighters. It'll remind me what I can do and what I'm capable of. It'll give me strength.

"That's the spirit," he says, clapping me on the back. "I know you can do it and so do you. So don't you go playing weak! You're representing the gang now, you wouldn't want them to see you as a disgrace. You won your initiation fight and you've taken plenty a wife, slept with many a girl, you've done it all. So don't stop now just because they're kids from other Districts."

"You're right. Thanks Ralph." Hearing him encourage me is just what I needed.

"Good luck, man. I wish you the best." He leaves.

I only half expect my mother. I know that even if she wanted to come she wouldn't because she would have to see me before I go off to a fight to the death. But honestly she's constantly worried and she'd just show up with all the sappy bullshit and make me promise to be careful. Which isn't how I roll, especially not in a fight to the death.

Jessamine comes to get me, and then she gets Pregnant Bitch, and together we get on the train and take the first step towards my Victory.

 _-Felicity-_

I sit and wait for visitors. My mother comes in first, giving me a tight hug. "Oh, Felicity!"

"Mom," I say, my voice sad and shaking with tears.

"You have to win, my sweet baby," she says, burying her face in my neck.

"I dunno if I can Mom," I sob quietly. I feel waves of emotion, of nerves and sadness and grief at my fate, possibly the same as my father's. I hug her tightly and sob.

"I love you," I tell her, my voice shaking.

"Oh, I love you too, sweetheart," she says, holding onto me tight. "You have to win."

"I can try…" I don't think I can, though, which hurts even more.

She puts a necklace into my hand. A gemstone. On the back of it is carved _Felicidad_. "Mom…"

"This belonged to an ancestor of yours," Mom says, "That shared your name. It means happiness. I want you to have it."

"Oh, thank you Mom," I sob, wearing the beautiful necklace around my neck. We hug and sob our last _"I love you"s_ before she's pulled away from me. My mother! I'll miss her so much, as well as the attention she always gave me.

My sister Emerald comes in next. "You were reaped!" she says.

"Yeah," I say, wiping my eyes.

"Does this mean I get the big plates now?"

"I guess it does."

"Yay! I'll tell Mom you said that!" She smiles at getting her way. I feel like I could kick her. She waves at me and then skips out before they can escort her.

Next in comes Jonathan. He takes me into a tight hug, burying his face. "Oh, Felicity…" He whispers into my neck. "Not my Felicity… No…"

"Sh…" I sniffle a little bit. "Don't worry about me…" I hate to see him like this. I care so much for him and to see him so upset affects me deeply. I love him so much… I can't lose him. He can't lose me. I'm carrying his child, after all. If I die, so does the baby, and even if I don't have any other reason to try my best to win, it's my child. I hug him, trying not to cry, but he does cry and that makes me emotional.

"I love you," I say, and he hugs me tighter.

"Felicity… I love you too." He unburies his face to look at me. He takes a strand of hair and tucks it behind my ear. Feeling his hands on me makes me more determined than ever to come home to him. I look into his blue eyes and he looks back into mine, and we don't speak but in that moment his eyes tell me more than he could ever say out loud.

He kisses me and I kiss him back, wishing that I could live in this moment, live in him, forever. I wish I had him to have and to hold, and to call mine forever. Fuck the reaping, I should've married him before something like this would happen!

He pulls back, tears falling down his cheeks as he gazes at me.

"Time's up!" calls a Peacekeeper.

"Jonathan!" They pull him away from me, and I lose his warmth, his touch, his smile. He's pulled away before he can even yell a last "I love you!" and I watch him. Then, Jessamine appears, a smile on her face, ready to escort my District partner and I out to the train.

 _ **A/N: I think this one is a bit short but I hope you enjoyed it anyways! Sorry for the delay, but I've been very busy and also had a bit of a block for this story and these characters. I hope I did them well, and I hope you liked the chapter anyways. I still have a bunch of shit happening but I hope to update more frequently now, possibly, though it may be a couple weeks until another chapter comes up. Until then, though, I'm still updating the blog, so check that out! If you have any comments or questions, please feel free to send me a message!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Same old. Which tribute stood out more and why?**_

 _ **SCORES:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 36**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 51**_

 _ **CptAwesome: 10**_

 _ **Dreamer: 352**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 86**_

 _ **eldergrayskull: 4**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 106**_

 _ **epictomguy: 24**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 52**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **xGred-Forgex: 36**_

 _ **GryffindorOnFire: 9**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 254**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 12**_

 _ **Jess: 416**_

 _ **johnsonmiranda70: 6**_

 _ **Josephm611: 92**_

 _ **Kate: 268**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 97**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 86**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 81**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 80**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 81**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 22**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **Sinfonian Legend: 385**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 5**_

 _ **the victor of panem: 11**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 71**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 96**_


	11. D9 Reaping

_-Karima Highland, 15- Lady Lysa Arryn-_

I wake up to my mother calling me awake. I hold tight to the bunny that was tangled in my arms, realizing that it's totally 11:00 and I totally and completely slept for way too long!

My heart rate picks up. I like to hold to my schedule, and my schedule entails waking up at 6:45 to get to school. It definitely doesn't entail waking up at 11!

"Get up," Mom says, sounding stern, "It's reaping day."

Oh, reaping day. That's right. The one day when there is no school, and many don't see the need to go into work. The one day that everything is out of whack. Not to mention that two teens are sent off to the Games today.

I wake up and stretch, setting the bunny on my dresser. My bunny is one of the numerous teddies made for me by my grandmother Ethel. My grandma is a beautiful woman, and probably the wisest person I know, not even because she's so old. If only my mother and I got along half as well as I do with my grandmother.

My mother has the tub ready, after having bathed in it when the water was still hot. If I could I would fight her, but that would be totally not cool. She's older than me, after all, and calling out a fight would just be plain disrespectful as her daughter. I still have to bend to her authority. I wash up, dunking my head underwater and running my hands through my long black hair as it floats on the water. I love how that feels. Then, I sit up again and get out of the now lukewarm tub. I dry off as best as I can, holding my hair from my face by tying it up in a towel. Without all the hair there, my blue eyes pop even more. But it's also so much more obvious how my nose is crooked from that one time it was broken and didn't heal right. I sigh.

I change into a simple blouse and a skirt, letting my hair down and drying it as thoroughly as I can with a towel. I run a comb through it so that it looks good before I go to the kitchen for breakfast.

My father gives me a hug in good morning, though he speaks more through actions than words, which is fine by me. I think my optimistic attitude comes from him more than it does my mother. He always knows what to do to make me feel better instead of talking only through commands.

My mother hands me some toast she made over the fireplace, complete with butter and some berries on the side. All in all, not too bad a breakfast, I'd say. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I start to eat. I eat hungrily and gratefully, keeping the bunny from grandma with me to give me some kind of peace. I have to remind myself that yes, I can eat every day, which makes me leaps and bounds more important than other girls my age.

Even though now I know my eating schedule _and_ my sleep schedule are both messed up. I like to have things consistent, so reaping days are my least favorite day of the whole year. Nothing is how it should be.

I hug and kiss my father one last time and bid farewell to my mother before I go out to find my best friend before the reaping.

I see Ferris at the District pawn shop, where the poor people go to sell their heirlooms and belongings in hopes that they can get food to last another day, and where more fortunate people go to find new things to call their own. My mother goes there a lot, and always complains about how it's all junk, though sometimes she finds a necklace or a ring or a broach or a pin that's in her price range, and she'll buy it and show it off. My mother enjoys the pretty things, that's for sure. It's a good thing we're pretty well-off.

I tap him on the shoulder and he turns around, flashing me a smile.

"Hey Karima," he says. He seems a little on-edge, considering he's even more dependent on things being normal as I am. Besides, today is reaping day, who wouldn't be nervous?

I am stronger than every single person in my entire grade because stronger is better. I am definitely the most important fifteen year-old in the District. My drive to be the best, my confidence, it's a feeling I have that consumes me like fire. I am _definitely_ better than Ferris, more independent and stronger than him. But I love him anyways, he's my best friend. Even though he's the reason my nose is messed up. Though I try to drop the grudge, hating him and holding a grudge like that is incredibly unladylike.

"So, are you nervous?" he asks. That seems to be the first question you're asked on a reaping morning. By adults, kids, teens, anyone.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I sigh, trying not to think of the worst and adding, "I'm sure it'll be fine though. Probably not either of us. We're still pretty young, and I don't take tesserae."

"True… Alright."

I nod and together, we leave the shop and walk toward the Square where the reaping will be held, Ferris beside me. We get in line with the other teens from the District and I start to feel incredibly nervous. _Don't worry,_ I tell myself, _You're Karima Highland. You'll be okay._

Ferris and I soon realize that we're going to have to split and I get even more nervous and unsettled. I give him one last hug before he waves and we separate, me walking toward the girls' section, and him toward the boys'. When I get to the roped-off area for fifteen-year-old girls, I make sure that I push my way to the front.

The mayor takes the stage, clears his throat, and begins to read out his reaping day speech. I listen, even though it's always the same, just said slightly differently. At least reapings have a schedule that they go by. That thought brings me at least a little thought of peace. I sigh as the escort takes the stage.

James Rhodes is his name, he's been the escort for pretty much as long as I can remember. He has dark skin, and the only dye in his hair is one long red strand going all the way down his back. He looks like a demon and honestly everyone here is freaked out by him. Who can forget the girl in my year when we were 13 that got reaped and started crying and tried to run to her family rather than stand by his side?

"Welcome, to this reaping for the 84th Hunger Games. Please remember that volunteering is always an option, instead of sending dead meat into the Arena." I sigh, but my heart is flying. I don't think I could take being in the Games, honestly. Or, not yet, anyways.

"So, with that, let's select our female tribute first." He walks over to the glass bowl with the white slips in it. He swirls his hands around the bowl and picks out a name. He walks back over to the microphone and reads.

"Karima Highland!" My heart seems to stop. It drops to the bottom of my stomach. Immediately I know that I'm going to go into the Games, and I'm probably going to die there… _No, Karima, don't think like that,_ I try to tell myself, but the fear overtakes me.

"Karima? Karima Highland? Come on now, we don't have all day," he's starting to sound irritated. Tears start to flow freely out of my eyes. I scream a bit, a scream of defiance, choking with sobs. I think about my grandmother and parents in the crowd, Ferris in the group of boys, and cry harder. The possibility of death pounds closer and closer with every heartbeat. I scream and cry and everything becomes a blur. James's voice booming on the microphone, the footsteps of Peacekeepers marching in to retrieve me, my own cries and screams, the blurred murmurs of the girls I walk past, everything is a blur of color, a blur of sounds, nothing feels real to me now. I hold tightly to the bunny from Granma as I'm dragged along.

I'm shoved forward, still screaming and breaking down. I stumble up the stairs, one by one, slowly up to the stage. James's red eyes bore into my own, and I feel so small and insignificant, which makes my emotions burn like a fire as I try to control my tears, to no avail. I angrily wipe at my eyes as James goes over to the boy's bowl and pulls out a name.

"Kade Fields!" Things start to seem clearer now as I get over the initial horror of having been reaped. A boy steps out from the 17-year-old section, with dark brown hair. He looks pretty average as he goes up the stairs, and James urges the two of us to shake hands before we're both escorted back into the Justice Building.

 _-Kade Fields, 17- hopefuldreamer1991-_

This day brings back horrors.

Fresh memories, fresh nightmares, fresh demons. The day everything turned around for the worst.

I can't stand it, I sit awake in the darkness of the summer night, not sleeping, not even trying. I know that if I try, I'll only fail, wake up with some nightmare screaming and then I'll have woken Sophia. She really doesn't need to be awake right now. She'd try to help, and I appreciate it, but there's really nothing she can do. I sit awake, hugging my knees to my chest and watching an old, half-broken television we were able to acquire. It's absolute garbage, really, but it's a distraction from the thoughts that threaten to destroy me.

The volume doesn't work, but from the views I see on the screen I can tell it's some kind of Capitol special having to do with Victors. They show Gloss Constable first, showing some of the flashbacks from his Games, and then they show… Her. The Victor that I hate more than anything, though I know I shouldn't hate her so much I can't help it. She killed my sister, after. The Victor of the 82nd Games, Niesha Varlett. The girl from 1. She killed Lydia. Lydia, my little sister, was 13 when she was reaped away, and her killer escaped alive. I thought watching something mindless would help, but if I'd known that I'd be getting an update all about my sister's killer I wouldn't have watched.

Tears pour out of my eyes that I try to keep quiet, but it's helpless. Sophia wakes up and comes over to me.

"Kade?" she asks quietly. I try to stop crying. I've had to be so strong, fighting for myself with no help but what I get from Sophia, but every once in a while I break down.

"Sorry," I say quietly, through tears, "Go back to bed…"

She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around me. "No…"

I try to wipe my eyes, going back to the mindlessness of watching them talk about Pit Kensy's baby. I find it interesting that she didn't go with her husband's last name upon being married. Maybe because that's the name everyone knows her by? Or maybe because Pit Hollenbeck-Young isn't as catchy? I'm not sure.

"It's okay," Sophia says quietly, "It's all going to be okay." I bury my face in my knees. I know she'll feel bad if she doesn't make me feel better, but there's really nothing she can do to help. She's done so much, but nothing will ever feel the void left by my sister's death.

"Go to bed," I say quietly, "I'll be fine."

"Kade…"

"Please… Just leave me." She swallows hard and then nods.

"Alright. But… Kade, if you need someone to talk to… I'm here."

"Okay," I say quietly, voice shaking. Sophia lies back down and I watch the Victors flick by. Each one gets clips shown from their Games, the Capitol's favorite scenes. It's probably not healthy to watch, but it's one of those morbid things where once you start, you can't look away. They show our Victors from Nine. Gabriel Yates, who won the 61st Games, is shown first. His Games were fairly tame. After that they show Sunnoria Amaranth, who won the 62nd Games. District 9 is one of the few non-Career Districts to have two Victors in a row. 5 accomplished the same thing. I watch Sunnoria's Games, another pretty tame one compared to other Games past. I sigh quietly, the tears subsiding. I dry my eyes.

Zander Smith from District 10 comes by, they show some flashbacks of the 40th Games. Aleah Meyers, the girl escort, is next, showing clips from the 69th Games. She's still pretty well-liked from how it seems. The District 11 Victors are next. First they show Donavan Osten, who won the 39th Games. His was a particularly bloody year, as they first show his ally from 5 being tortured by the Careers, and then Donavan getting his revenge by blowing them all to bits. Seeing the graphic violence makes my stomach turn as they show Chaff Durant's clips from the 45th Games. I wish I could stop watching but I have nothing else better to do with my time as they show the only living Victor in District 12 to date, Haymitch Abernathy, who looks worse than ever.

Saxon Hastings and Blaine Buchanan appear on the screen after that, their smiling faces chattering about who knows what. I eventually turn the TV off and glance over to Sophia, who still sleeps peacefully. She's really a true friend. She'd been on the streets for a while before I ended up with nothing, and was there to help me learn how to fight for myself.

After Lydia died in the bloodbath of her Games, my mother fell ill from grief. After she passed away, my sister Gabrielle and I were left with nothing. I took her and moved out. I couldn't help her when she fell ill with pneumonia. I wasn't good enough to save her, I didn't work hard enough… I know deep down there was nothing I could do, but it still eats away at me.

After that, I got desperate. I sold my body to get funds. It made me a lot of money, too, but Sophia was always warning me to be careful. It was humiliating, really, I was shunned by all and seen as nothing more but a walking dick. After one night in particular when I got my lights beat out by some sadist, Sophia told me it was time to cut that out. From there I've been juggling as many jobs and ways to make money as possible. My last hope is my pocket watch. If I get desperate, I can still sell it. But I won't do that unless I'm at death's door. This watch is all I have left.

I feel the cold summer breeze and shiver a bit. I look up at the sky, sighing.

 _What good can I do, as a homeless kid?_

When I was first on the streets I remember seeing a rerun of a Games, I can't remember which, where the Victor was a kid that was homeless. "Anything is possible," he said. "Anything can happen," he preached. I always believed it, too, from that day on.

Even so, though, the Games were horrifying to me. When I brought that thought up to Sophia, we decided to start learning combat together. Through our adventures, we worked to improve our self-defense and combat skills. Now, it's hardly any kind of good or proper training. After all, in reality it probably has done nothing to improve anything. I only know how Sophia fights, that's not going to help me with anything. But it's nice to at least pretend to have some kind of security.

I watch the sky, the stars, the moon, until it starts to lighten and the sun begins to rise. _It's going to be a long day._

As the dawn goes to morning I doze into a light sleep before quickly waking myself up again to prevent nightmares. I'm absolutely exhausted by the time Sophia wakes up for good around 8.

"Kade," she says, looking sad. I've never asked what happened with her family. By the way she's acted, I've never really thought it was my place. I opened up to her like a book with everything that happened to me, but she's not that kind of person. I know she trusts me and we're good friends, but she's not exactly comfortable being vulnerable. Which is fine, really.

"Morning," I sigh.

"Did you sleep at _all_? You look like shit."

I sigh quietly. "Not really." I have to be honest with her. "I was too afraid to."

"Kade…" she sighs a bit. "You should've slept. You should sleep."

"But-"

"No buts. You look awful and you're going to need rest for the days to come, no matter what happens."

I sigh, frowning, but I know she's not going to move on that. I lay down on the ground, trying to get comfortable. I feel her hand pat my head gently and know that she's there to help me brave out whatever harsh realities the streets have to offer. I fight my instinct to stay awake, eventually dozing off into an uneasy slumber.

I may be asleep, but I barely rest. When Sophia wakes me up again I feel just as exhausted, just as shitty. "Sorry," I sigh, "But I'm not going to get rest either way. There are too many horrible memories."

"Oh… Alright," she sighs.

"I'm sorry Sophia… I know it's hard to see me like this but…"

"It's fine. I know you can't help it. I just… Feel bad."

"I'll be fine. I survive."

"I know you do," she frowns.

"We'll make it through."

She nods. "You're right, Kade." She tries a tiny, sad smile, which I return, probably sadder than hers.

"We should head out for the reaping," she says quietly. I nod. I don't want to go, but I have to. Hopefully it goes by fast, though I know it won't be the case. Last year's was pure torture from the time I fell asleep into nightmares that night.

I sigh, knowing that she's right. I get up and help her up, and together we walk out to the Square. People are all around, many of them having travelled here from afar. I see plenty of nervous faces, all looking around for some kind of hope, as we go to get our fingers pricked.

"Take care," I tell Sophia, "I'll see you after the reaping."

She gives me a hug. "May the odds be ever in your favor," she says. Hearing those words makes me feel sick.

I nod a bit and go to the section for 17-year-old males, biting my lip.

The reaping begins with the mayor's speech, and a lump starts to form in my throat that I swallow down. Then, the escort, James Rhodes, takes the stage. I feel like I could shit my pants at seeing him. He's terrifying. Seeing Lydia next to him after trying to run and find me was more than I could handle. Seeing how he brushed her off from the second she was reaped made it really sink in that my sister was going into the Games.

He greets us and saunters over to pick a girl's name, and my chest tightens. Every year I'm convinced he's going to pick out a slip of paper and say "Lydia Fields!" Even if the Capitol's forgotten my sister completely, I still haven't.

"Karima Highland!" he says. Nobody comes out from the crowd at first. Nobody even makes a single sound. "Karima? Karima Highland? Come on now, we don't have all day." James looks pointedly at the group of girls, and suddenly we all hear a loud scream and a cry. My heart practically shatters. Soon, after some more screaming and crying, the Peacekeepers break into the crowd, taking a girl with long, black hair up to the stage, who screams and sobs. They throw her at the steps and she takes them very slowly, sobbing as she reaches the stage.

The District is dead silent. My heart is broken, and I scold myself for feeling glad for Sophia's safety. James just looks annoyed as he picks a name from the other bowl.

"Kade Fields!" …Oh no. That's… Me.

I start to the stage, remembering to breathe. The lump in my throat grows bigger and tries to push it's way out, but I don't allow it to break. I don't allow myself to cry, even if I want to. I take the steps up to the stage and my heart rate goes even faster when I see James's demonic eyes looking at me, surveying me, thinking less of me because of where I come from.

I shake hands with my District partner, who is Lydia's age. Then, we're presented one last time and taken back to the Justice Building.

I only get one visitor. Sophia runs in and takes me into a tight hug. I hug her back tightly and the tears start to flow at seeing her cry.

"Kade, please…" she sniffles, "You have to come home!"

"I'm going to fight," I promise her, "I'm going to do my best."

"I need you!" she says. Without me she'll be on her own. Which she's capable of, sure, but I want to be there for her.

"I can win," I say quietly, "It's not unheard of… Anything is possible." She sniffles and looks at me with teary eyes before nodding and burying her face again. I try to control the tears that roll down my cheeks as we hug tightly.

"Never give up," she says.

"I promise I won't."

"Time's up!" calls a Peacekeeper.

"Thank you for everything," I tell her quietly, "You have to keep going no matter what happens to me."

"I love you," she says quietly.

"I love you too."

She's gone. James appears in the doorway, causing me to jump and quickly dry my eyes. He takes me and my District partner to go to the train.

 _-Karima-_

My grandmother visits me first. As soon as she comes, I hug her tightly. I love her so much and will definitely miss her.

"Karima," she says, holding me close.

"Grandma," I sniffle, hugging her and trying not to cry, though failing. "I…" I don't know what to say to her.

"You can do this," she says, sounding very calm, though sad. Leave it to Grandma to keep a cool head. I sniffle and nod. Of course I can… I'm better than all the girls my age, right? Stronger? I could…

"Thank you Grandma. For everything you've done for me," I say quietly.

"Anything for you, my dear." I hold onto her for a bit after that, hugging her tight and knowing that she could be right… I can't let her down by giving up. They call time to be up, and Grandma kisses the top of my head.

"I love you," she says, as she goes peacefully.

"I love you too," I say quietly, trying to control my tears.

Next, my parents come in together. My father says nothing, he just takes me into his arms and holds me there as more tears fight their way out of my eyes. I hug him tightly, not knowing what to say to him. He holds me tightly but his breaths shake.

"Don't give up," whispers Dad, and I nod into his stomach, trying to stop crying.

"I won't," I promise him, and I intend to live by it. He nods and holds me close.

"Karima, you arrogant child," Mom says, looking a bit annoyed. "You can't let your abnormal arrogance destroy you. You have to be smart."

"Yes Mother," I sigh. She's crazy if she thinks I'm arrogant. I only speak the truth after all. My father lets me go to give my mother a brief hug.

"Good luck," she says, though I don't know how much she means it by her tone.

My Dad takes me into one last tight hug. "I love you, Karima," he says quietly.

"I love you too, Dad," I sniffle quietly.

My parents are escorted out.

Ferris is the last to visit, he runs in, crying. "Karima!" he squeaks, taking me into a hug. "I can't believe it!"

"I'll be fine," I try to raise his spirits, but it's hard to hold it together.

"You have to come home," he says, sobbing. "You're part of my schedule, I might not be able to function without you!"

"Ferris, take a deep breath…" but he doesn't, and more tears come to my eyes, just when I was going to stop them. I take him into a hug, wishing he were stronger, stronger like me. I hug him and he cries and I cry, and we don't say anything.

"Time's up!" calls the Peacekeeper.

"You have to come back," Ferris says, hiccupping with tears. I just nod as he's carried away.

Then, I wipe my eyes, sniffling one last time as James comes to get me and my District partner and escorts us out to the train.

 _There's no going back now,_ I think, as I watch my home disappear behind us.

 _ **A/N: Phew. This chapter was much easier to write. So, I'm back! I have schoolwork and music work galore, but things are starting to clear up. Hopefully as time goes things will be less chaotic. I'm so excited to almost be done with reapings, because that's when the real fun of this story begins (and also when I get to start receiving tributes 42, but that's quite literally a different story)! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and Natasha and Hope, I hope you enjoyed how I wrote your characters!**_

 _ **So, I finally finished putting up all the mentors and escorts on my blog! So check those out, they're definitely a very dynamic group of characters. I hope you've been liking the brief mentions of the mentors in some of the tribute POVs, but we'll be seeing more of the mentors later. Also, the escorts are all very different and very interesting characters. It's hard to pick a favorite of them!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Same thing- Submitters, how'd you like how I wrote them? Non submitters, who stood out more, and why?**_

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 _ **W. R. Winters: 106**_


	12. D10 Reaping

_-Rachel Turner, 16- Emrys Holmes-_

I wake up shivering.

Yeah, I'm cold, but I have a roof over my head. That's all that matters at this point. Even if it's not great, it's shelter from the cold and the rain. Which is more than some can say for themselves. Trust me, I've been in that position too. In fact, that's how it usually is. But the butcher I work for insisted I stay for the night, because it's reaping day today and at least one night of my life shouldn't be spent in hell, right?

Ha. As if anything could pacify the horror of the Games.

I wake up, glad I'm not outside because I could hear it raining like none other. I get up and see my reaping clothes there, folded up for easy transportation. You never know when you might need to bolt.

Next to my clothes lays my sword. It's… Not much of a sword, and it cost me everything I had. But after my sister was reaped, I had to be sure I didn't share her fate. If only my brother hadn't decided to waltz out and marry someone rich just so he could drink. I wonder if I ever crossed his mind, when he decided to disown us and go. I wonder, but I don't want to know. I'm such a fucking masochist.

I pull my bushy black hair back into its usual ponytail and get dressed for the reaping, in the nicest (though crinkled, battered, and hand-me-down) clothes I have.

I twist my mother's silver bracelet around my wrist. The last memory I have of her, before my innocent parents were both wiped out in a riot that they had _nothing to fucking do with_! I'm just a little bit mad about that, of course. Just a bit.

After my parents were blown to tiny fucking pieces, my sister, brother and I were left on our own. We had to fight for ourselves in an unforgiving world. After all, District 10 isn't fucking District 1. It's not even District 5 or 6. No. We're one of the "outer" Districts. And in the Capitol, "outer" is synonymous to "glaze over completely even though we do all your fucking hard work for you."

My shoulders and neck still ache and whine when I turn my head because of all the huge-ass bags of meat I have to carry all the time. Sometimes I wish I had a better job to do, something that didn't break my back every day, something that didn't hurt so much all the fucking time. But no. I won't resort to shoveling shit if I can help it.

The butcher was nice enough to give me a job, and he's nice to me. He wants the best for me but at the same time he hasn't tried to pry into my home life. Not that I have any home life anymore, since they're all gone, one way or another.

I will not forgive the Capitol for what they've done to me. That's why I have the sword, of course.

There's a tiny, old television down there, one of those ancient ones with the glass over the screen that doesn't need a projector. When I turn it on the picture comes on with black and white static, but I see the face of Zander Smith, the old dog from the 40th Games, looking old and jaded next to the other Victors that are going to be mentored this year. He gives the camera a glare with one of his eyes, the one that isn't covered with an eyepatch.

The other mentor from 10 is Aleah May Meyers, who won slightly more recently, the 69th Games. She looks much softer and sadder than Zander. She's not strong or powerful like the District 10 tribute should be. My sister was 20 times the tribute that bitch ever was, and yet she's gone. Funny how that works, right? I think it's just fucking hilarious.

I turn off the TV forcefully, resisting the urge to break it because it isn't mine. I'm still a guest in someone else's house. This is one night I have a roof over my head, and I can't shatter that generosity, unlike some other entity that has thrown away the efforts of _hundreds of fucking people!_

I pick up the sword from where it lays on the ground by my side. I'd given everything for it. Everything but the one family heirloom I have left. I stroke the silver bracelet with my finger, and my hand starts to shake a little bit with rage. Rage at the Capitol, and all that they've put me through.

I swing the sword with all my strength, crashing it against the concrete floor of the room and causing a satisfying crashing noise.

"Rachel!? Are you alright?!" _Shit, he heard that._ I may be no good at the weapon, but at least it feels natural to hold it in my hands. At least I'm one step ahead of the others. I wish I could move to a Career District, be surrounded by people that spent their whole lives training, but of course not. I'm in the outer District hell. Nothing we ever do will get us money. It's pointless. What, do we have to build a fucking Training Center!?

"I'm fine," I say with a slightly louder voice than usual. "Accidentally dropped something, that's all."

"If you want some breakfast, I saved some food."

I pull my ponytail tighter as I go upstairs to where the butcher has some stuff on the table for me to pick at. I blink, surprised.

"You don't have to do that," I mumble, staring at the food. It's something to eat. I take some of what he had and give the rest back to him. "I left the rest of my stuff down there but I'll get it after work today."

"That's fine."

"I want to get a couple hours in. Of work. Get some pay. Before the reaping. I'll change back into my casual clothes."

"No. I'm not opening up until much later anyways. Have some free time for yourself." I nod, but don't know how to tell him I don't need free time before the reaping because I have nothing. No one to see, nothing to do, I can't even shop because I'm broke. But I don't need him knowing how incredibly desperate I am.

We sit in silence for a little bit before I clear my throat. "I'd better be making my way to the reaping."

He nods and I leave him.

I walk out on the dusty path, kicking rocks ahead of my feet as I go and sliding my feet on the pebbles. The reaping doesn't start till 12:30, but I wanted to get out of there. I don't like to feel like I'm intruding. I wish he would've let me get in some time. More time, more work, means more pain, but also more money. And more strength. After all, what's the best way to spite the Capitol? Be famous and then destroy them. After all, fame is important to them, of course. Their Victors, their Games, that's what make things run smoothly. If a bad seed were to destroy everything, it'd be the happiest day of my whole life.

I walk for a while down the trail. The wind blows, the grass sways, and I kick dust puffs up into the wind. It's mostly silent around this time, which I appreciate. I'm not exactly well-liked.

I walk in circles, reliving the day my parents died, the day my sister was killed on TV and I was forced to watch it, the day I decided I would do anything to make sure the Capitol knows how much we hate them, even if it means self-destruction. I'm not afraid of death anymore, because it's not like I have anything to lose. I've wasted my time, I've had it all taken from me. It wasn't fucking fair, but it's all fucking gone. Now I'm left by myself, but I'm not just going to sit around. No way. After all, why not go out with a bang?

I suddenly hear a loud voice and look up. I see a boy there, throwing a stick, and suddenly I'm almost knocked over by the Australian shepherd that runs to get it.

"Astro!" the boy, who looks like a teen, follows the shepherd, another dog close at his heels.

"Sorry!" he calls, pulling the white Stetson over his dark red hair.

"No problem, hun!" I call back. I mean, he's pretty cute. One of the dogs comes over and licks at my hands, and he follows, getting the Aussie to sit and be polite.

"Sorry."

"It's nice to have some fun before the reaping," I shrug, giving him a smile.

"Yeah," he says. "I mean, I don't have to worry about them anymore. Just for my step-siblings, but they kicked me out so…" he shrugs.

"Oh. You're the… Shit boy? Is that what everyone calls you?"

"Yeah." He sighs. "But, y'know, you make do."

"What's your name, doll? I'm Rachel Turner."

"Tarrick Tailor."

"Nice to meet you Tarrick." I smile sweetly at him, patting the Aussie's head. "I should get moving to the Square, but I'll catch you later." I give him a wink.

"Uh… Okay." He's either not into it or flustered. Probably flustered, I think. I keep moving on my way to the Square.

I'm the first one there to be checked in, but eventually the people fill the Square. I'm crowded in with the rest of the sorry 16-year-old girls. The mayor talks for a bit before the escort, Eleanor Smith, takes the stage. Yes, if you're wondering about the last name, she's related to our old 40th Victor. Though you wouldn't know it.

"Howdy y'all!" she says, flashing us all a large smile. "And welcome to our reaping for the 84th Games!" She makes me sick, she's so disgusting. How can anyone be so happy for something like this?!

"Let's begin with the young lady!" I feel a roaring within me, a desire, an ambition, and suddenly I know that I've been talking so much and not acting. I should let my actions speak for me, not my words.

"Jane Bates!" The crowd goes silent, but before the reaped girl can step out of her age group, I shove past the other girls in my section.

"I volunteer!" I shove my way out to the walkway, causing the red-haired girl to stop and stare at me. "I volunteer as tribute!" I run up to the stage, my heart pounding with adrenaline. I don't even realize what I've just done, staring out across the District as Eleanor looks surprised but excited.

"Oh, well I'll be! What's your name then dear?"

"Rachel Turner." My voice booms out across the District and they know I mean business.

"Of course, wonderful! And now, for the boys."

She walks over to the other side and picks out of the bowl.

"Raoul Keaton!" There's a big pause. "Raoul?" A boy stumbles out of the 17-year-old section. His whole body shakes as he starts to the stage. He trips over his own feet and almost falls on his face, causing me to suppress a laugh, my natural reaction in the pressure of the moment. He makes it up to the stage, finally. Eleanor makes us shake hands, and I can feel him shake.

 _He'd better buck up now, and fast. Or else._

 _-Raoul Keaton, 17- Josephm611-_

My parents won't even take a break for reaping day. It's to be expected, really. After all, it's been years since they've actually had the time or energy to _look_ at me. I know I can't be too hard on them, though. I mean, they work hard, long hours, they're always straining themselves, they never get a break. I can't be mad at them all the time, because it's not like they've exactly had it easy.

Sometimes, though, I really wish they'd remember they still had another son.

I'm convinced that after what happened with Reuben, they decided to just forget they ever had children. No, they forgot they had children before that. They only decided to remember that they had children after Reuben set his eyes on a girl they didn't like. Of course, just forget you had kids until they're doing something you don't like.

I know life is hard on them. I try to be rational about it, really. But I wish they would have recognized us for all the good work we did. I still wish they would give me a compliment every once in a while.

No, though, they've decided to completely ignore me and just take the extra money I can bring in. I still have a room and stuff, it's not neglect as much as it is… Ignoring me. Sometimes in this house, I feel like a ghost. Just because of what happened with Reuben, I'm the one that takes the consequences. I still don't even understand what was so wrong with the girl he was talking to. It's all above me.

I do have one way to be heard though.

First, though, I should probably eat my breakfast and get ready for the reaping. Thinking about the reaping makes me shudder. I only have two years left, but these are the two most likely years to be picked. I have a good number of slips in there, it could easily be me…

 _Fuck. I need my music._

I hurry up and eat and go upstairs to get changed. I put on a pair of brown dress pants, boots for the walk up in the dirt and mud, and a collared shirt with a bowtie. It's my nicest, that's for sure.

Then, I hurry back to our kitchen/sitting room/single room in the house that isn't a bathroom or bedroom. I go to the case that sits at the perfect distance away from the hearth, to keep it from getting too hot or too cold. The instrument inside is picky, and getting too hot or cold could cause it to break. And let's just say that without it… I don't know what I'd be. Who I am. I'd be nothing.

I take out one of the spare strings that I keep in the case. It's a G string, the thickest of them, that I twisted to make into a ring that I wear on reaping days. When it's not reaping day, though, I leave it in there, just in case my other G string were to snap.

I take the fiddle and the bow. It's really not an easy instrument to take care of, but so worth it. This instrument has been in my family for generations. My father wasn't good at it, but he was just good enough to be able to teach me, and I fell in love. After what happened with Reuben, so fresh in my mind (though it happened three years ago, I will never forget), I could wait to find a girl.

I put the instrument on my shoulder, running the bow across the strings and hearing the ring of the A. My father could never quite tune the fiddle, not to mention how challenging it is without a pitch as reference. I do the best I can and tune the other strings based on it.

Then, shaking and thinking about the reaping, I let out the nerves in a song. Nobody's around to hear it, which only makes it more satisfying. I don't need to bother people with my own emotions, everyone in this District has their own problems. The only thing I need to tell my deepest feelings to is my fiddle, and my fiddle always responds how I want it to.

I close my eyes and make music, not worrying about the gig I have scheduled for next week. I don't worry about anything, I close my eyes and play my favorite songs. I let out the sadness, the pain, the worries and nerves for the reaping, and the fiddle sings my emotions back to me. Hearing the notes I play is the most satisfying part. I stay like that for a while, half-watching the time, but mostly being immersed in my music. I needed this, really I did.

When I notice it's noon, I stop playing, taking great care to put the old instrument away. If it breaks, so does my whole life.

I zip up the case and leave it where it belongs, the perfect distance away so it isn't tempered wrong. Then, I grab a tiny lunch from the kitchen before I go out to find my friends so we can stand together for the reaping.

The walk to the Square takes a bit of time, but the most urban part of the District is bustling when I get there. I walk through the crowds, looking for that familiar messy brown hair or those dark eyes.

I see them walking together, and they quickly call out, "Raoul!"

Sire comes over first, and gives me a hug. He's always been the kind to comfort, and on a day like this, I need it. He lets me go, shaking the brown hair out of his eyes. "How are you doing?" he asks.

I smile, he can't know how I really feel, he's got much more important things to be concerned with. "I'm okay."

"It'll be okay," he says. "The odds are miniscule."

They're still there, there are still odds, but he's right, they're not very high.

"Even smaller for me," chirps Drake, "And it's my last one!" the 18-year-old gives us a smile but sinks at seeing our expressions darken. "But I'm sure we'll all be fine," he adds quickly.

"Yeah," sighs Sire, but he quickly smiles again. "We'll be fine."

"I was just showing him around the Square," says Drake. We don't get to come to the District nearly as much, but Drake lives here and sometimes he's even able to get himself treats. I'm not starving, but I often don't eat as much as I should. At least it's food, but… Both Sire and I wish we were that fortunate.

"Want a piece?" he shows me a cookie he was able to get from the bakery.

"Oh, uh, sure…" He breaks off part of the edge, smiling and biting into the center as I eat the part on the end. It's quite good, really.

"So then, how's _Veeeera_?" he asks. Sire suddenly looks interested, overdramatically interested, a teasing glint in his eyes.

I feel my ears burn red, and the more they smile at me like that the more the blush travels across my face and down my neck. "Shut up," I mumble, embarrassed. Both of them know damn well that I'm too nervous to talk to the prettiest girl I've ever seen. Oh Vera. She has black eyes that twinkle, and brown hair that I wish I could pet and run my fingers through. She's hilarious, very snarky, but at the same time she's so sweet and helpful.

Ugh, I can't get her out of my head. But I totally wouldn't want her to. Not to mention that playing love songs at weddings and parties has become so much easier now that I know the feeling. Now if only I had the balls to actually talk to her…

"Hey man, you should just go for it. You're great!" Sire pats me on the back. Drake quickly nods.

I sigh a bit. They really don't get it, it's not that easy. "Yeah, right." I still have time to build up the courage. The last thing I want to do is talk to her when I'm not comfortable with it.

Together, the three of us go to the reaping. I see Vera in the crowd, but the next time I look she's disappeared into the crowd. Sire and I say goodbye to Drake, who heads to the 18 section while Sire and I stay together in the 17.

The mayor speaks but the District doesn't pay attention until Eleanor Smith takes the stage, showing us the video and going on with that reapings in that weird accent she uses. Sure, around here you'll hear the occasional "howdy," but honestly why do people make such a big thing out of it?

Eleanor goes over to the girls' bowl. I look into the crowd of girls and my eyes immediately find Vera, my heart pounding for her. _What if she's reaped? Would I have the courage to tell her goodbye!?_

Eleanor picks a name and reads. "Jane Bates!" I release a sigh of relief. I feel bad, of course, horrible for the girl that's reaped. Suddenly, though, something completely unexpected happens.

"I volunteer!" _Seriously? This girl is nuts._

She goes up to the stage, taking each step at a time and looking strong and confident.

"Oh, well I'll be!" gasps Eleanor. The reaction is sick. It's all sick. The Games are sick. Not like any of us can change that though. "What's your name, dear?"

"Rachel Turner." She sounds confident. _So they aren't related… She wants to go to the Games because she wants to. She's insane._

"Now for the boy." I wish she'd stop using that stupid accent. She goes over and picks out a name. Sire takes my hand and squeezes it. I hold my breath.

"Raoul Keaton!" I hear my name, that very familiar name that's mine… And I freeze up. Sire looks over at me, his eyes wide in horror. I can't see Drake in the crowd, but I don't think I really want to.

Suddenly, my hands start to shake. I can't control the quivering that comes in the realization that I'm going to have to go to an Arena. Nobody's crazy enough to volunteer for me. If I want to get back, I'm going to have to take lives. And my fiddle's not going to be here when I need it… Neither are my friends, neither is anyone. I shake and quiver as I slowly release Sire and start up to the stage. I don't feel tears, though… I don't outwardly express my emotions, not through tears, not through laughs… I'm sad, but not showing it. Which is probably a good thing.

Everything is blurry, I can barely make myself move. I can't see where I'm going, every noise is a blur, the murmurs of the sympathetic District members… Suddenly I stumble on something, maybe my own feet. I take a second in the shock, but then keep going. My heart pounds and blood roars in my ears but I make it to the stage, still shaking.

"Shake hands now y'all," says Eleanor, quietly. I feel sick. Rachel shakes my hand with a tight grip.

"Everyone, your District 10 tributes!" We're taken back to the Justice Building.

My parents are the first to visit me. They come together, both of them looking upset. "Raoul…" my Mom takes me into a hug, seeming like she should be doing something, which I'm sure she's convinced she is. She's always up and around, always working and always in action. She hugs me for a bit and strokes my hair, but neither of us are crying.

My father hugs me as well. I understand how he's got such a need for action, though sometimes he acts like he doesn't think we appreciate him. He hugs me and doesn't say much.

It's kind of awkward, I don't really know what to say to them because I still think they were in the wrong for all they did to Reuben, especially now that I understand what it's like to be where he was. I'm the same age he was when he was thrown out, after all, over a girl.

"Love you," says Mom, going around in a circle, messing with her tight bun of hair, and then messing with my hair. Dad nods.

"Love you too," I say. "Keep my fiddle safe for me, alright?" I twist the string around my finger that I'm taking for a token.

"Okay." My father nods. They leave without having to be escorted.

Next comes Sire and Drake, together for support. I hug both of them, tightly. I'm going to miss them so much. They helped me through so much, really they did. I need them to keep me sane, them and my fiddle.

"I'm going to miss you," I say.

"You have to make it back," Sire says, sounding on the verge of tears. "You have to."

"I'll do my best." It's the only thing I can promise them.

"You can do it, Raoul. You really can do it." Drake looks at me seriously, his dark eyes earnest. He isn't kidding or joking, he really means it. "Please."

"I'll do my best." Tears start to fall down Sire's face so I hug him again, and Drake joins in. This is our last goodbye, after all. Possibly forever. Most definitely forever, if I can't kill. If I can't do it… It's a lot of pressure.

"Love you man," says Sire, through tears. He lets out a small sob, which causes my heart to break more but no tears come to my eyes. Drake even gets teary.

"Yeah," Drake says quietly. "It's been good. But the best is yet to come. You have to be there for it, alright?"

"I'll try." It's the best I can do. There's a pause as the Peacekeepers tell us time's up. "Love you too," I say quietly.

Sire leaves, letting out another sob though I can tell he's trying not to, and Drake follows close behind.

I wonder if Reuben is going to come, but I haven't seen him in three years… When he doesn't show, I don't feel surprised. Maybe if I come home, I'll talk to him again.

 _If._

Eleanor picks me up and takes Rachel and I to the train, and soon we're speeding away from home, away from love, away from laughter, from friends, from music.

 _-Rachel-_

My brother is the first to come in, which shocks me.

"…What are _you_ doing here?" I ask him.

"You volunteered."

"No duh, dumbass! _What are you doing here!?"_

"You're out of your mind. What, you want to be on my level so bad you felt the need to risk yourself?!"

"Arrogant asshole," I say. "You shouldn't have come here."

"You're just jealous I've got the world and you can't even get a single thing for yourself. You're poor. Like, disgusting."

"You used to be as fucking poor as _me_! I don't know _how_ you were ever married because you're disgusting!"

"At least I'm not poor."

I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna kill him right now, I jump on him, screaming, using all my strength, I'm ready to kill him! He yells and clumsily tries to shake me off as the Peacekeepers come in and rip me off of him. He leaves quickly and I grin a bit. _So long. Dick._

The butcher appears next, causing me to look up.

"So…"

"I had to do it. You won't understand."

"I don't need to."

We sit in silence for a bit, neither of us sure what to say. I mean, he's the closest I have to a friend here, but even so we're still not really warm to each other.

"You can sell what I left," I say. "I have everything I need here." I twirl my Mom's bracelet around my wrist. He nods a bit.

"Good luck."

"Thanks," I mumble. He nods and I nod back awkwardly.

"You can do it. You're a good worker."

"Yeah. I know. I'm proving a point. But I'll be back. Thanks for the roof, thanks for employing me."

He nods again. "So, yeah. Good luck."

I nod. "I'll do the District proud."

"So you will." He holds out his hand and I shake it. Not much of a friendly gesture, but better than nothing. He walks out without being escorted, and soon I'm taken to the train, ready to go to the place that I hate more than anything else.

 _ **A/N: Back at it! Hope you liked this chapter! We're almost done with reapings, so yay! I'm really trying to kick it into gear with this story, because as soon as the reapings are done I'm going to start up another partial SYOT for the 42**_ _ **nd**_ _ **Games! Which I'm super excited for! But, I'm waiting for until I'm done with reapings for this, because writing reapings is getting to be miserable (I mean, I love these characters, but it's the SAME DAMN THING for each one over and over and over again, it's exhausting) and I know if I start something new I'll NEVER get through reaping hell. But I'm still trudging through reaping hell. My goal is to not have my outer District submitters feel duped because of my struggle to write so many reapings, so hopefully you enjoyed this chapter just as much as the previous ones!**_

 _ **Anyways, that's so much talking from me. But, all of the mentors and escorts have been put up to my SYOT blog (link on my profile), and once I'm done with the reapings, I'll make posts about the tributes (with much less info, of coruse). And once the reapings are over I'll start a poll so you can vote for your favorites!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Same. Submitters, how did you like what I wrote with your tributes/escorts/mentors? Non-submitters, which tribute stood out more to you and why?**_

 _ **Scores:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 36**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 51**_

 _ **CptAwesome: 10**_

 _ **Culturalchicken: 2**_

 _ **Dreamer: 377**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 96**_

 _ **eldergrayskull: 4**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 126**_

 _ **epictomguy: 24**_

 _ **erica1024 (I'm assuming you're the same person who reviewed as a guest named Erica, but let me know if you're not!): 16**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 52**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **xGred-Forgex: 51**_

 _ **GryffindorOnFire: 9**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 284**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 12**_

 _ **Jess: 441**_

 _ **johnsonmiranda70: 6**_

 _ **Josephm611: 107**_

 _ **Kate: 348**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 97**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 86**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **OncerTillTheEnd: 4**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 81**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 80**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **Sagerose the Divergent: 10**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 96**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 22**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **Sinfonian Legend: 415**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 5**_

 _ **the victor of panem: 11**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 71**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 116**_


	13. D11 Reaping

_-Martina Reyés, 18- xxPeppermintxx109-_

I wake up early that morning to Marlene crawling into my bed.

"Lene?" I yawn tiredly, blinking sleep out of my eyes. The 5-year-old sniffles and curls up to me, and I notice by her breaths that she's crying. "What's wrong?"

"You were reaped," cries Marlene, "You and Trey were reaped and they took Leah too…" She buries her face in my side and cries quietly.

"Oh, Lene…" I hold my five-year-old little sister close. "That's not going to happen," I whisper quietly. "Nobody's getting reaped, nobody's going to die, alright?"

"B-But-"

"Sh… Don't worry about it, Marlene. Nobody's going to get reaped, alright?"

I can't say that for sure, of course. Every year, we get more and more slips in there. In another District, maybe taking ten shares of tesserae each year would be unheard of. But, here in the starving, desolate District 11, it's simply what I have to do.

I check the clock and see that it's 5 in the morning, which means my parents will probably be leaving to get in some work time before the start of the reapings. I offered, but they said it would be best for me to stay home. "It's your last year," they said.

Besides, I'm needed to be here with my siblings. It's a hard day for them. This is my last reaping, but I will never have peace. Not until my siblings are safe. I'm the oldest at 18, then there's Leah, who's 16, Trey at 13, and Marlene is the youngest at five. I'm done this year, and Leah will be done in two years. After five years, Trey will be safe, and I'll only have two years to breathe before Marlene starts them. And that's not even the start of it.

"Remember, Tristen and Mariah both survived the reapings just fine." My brother and his wife moved out a while ago.

"And Jackson," sniffles Marlene.

"That's right," I say quietly, "Jackson too."

Marlene snuggles into my side and closes her eyes. I wipe the tears gently off of her cheeks from her eyes. "We're all going to be alright, I promise," I whisper, trying to ignore the creeping fear of being reaped. Marlene falls asleep again, snuggled against me. I pull the blankets around us, and close my eyes again, figuring I still have some time to sleep.

.

I wake up again at 11 and decide that's a good time to get out of bed. I move as quietly and gently as possible, trying to not wake Marlene up. It sounds like she had a sleepless night, and I wouldn't want to ruin her rest by waking her up too early. I wrap her up in my blanket and she rolls over, stirring slightly but not fully waking up.

I smile softly at my sister, getting dressed in my best blouse and skirt for reapings. The best clothes I have, really. After all, the only time we have to dress up is for the reaping and for weddings. I remember my brother's wedding like it's just yesterday.

 _It was such a good day. Mariah's dark skin looks like dark chocolate, it was so beautifully contrasting against her dress. The wedding was short and simple, and family oriented. Then, there was a party in the Town Square. It was a long distance to go, but worth it. We had some music there, people playing guitars and other stringed instruments, singing some of the folk songs from the District that are so familiar. Her dark eyes sparkled with bright happiness as she gazed at Tristan. Tristan's eyes returned the happy gaze as he danced with her. But, after he had danced with his new wife to his heart's content, he still took me for a dance as well. From the time we were just kids and he was slipping Leah and I food, I made him promise me a dance at his wedding. After he gave me a jig, he went dancing with Leah, and I danced with Trey and Marlene, and we had a great time._

 _I will never forget how we all laughed on that day. It's one of my fondest memories to date. I always smile when I think about the music, the laughter._

 _Another of the happiest days I can remember is when Mariah and Tristan welcomed my nephew into this world, naming him after our late grandfather. It's almost time for us to celebrate his first birthday, considering he was born right after the 83_ _rd_ _Games are over… It'll be a relief when that comes, though. That means we'll all be safe from the reapings for another year. I'll be safe for good._

I smile as I go to wake up my other siblings. Leah is already awake and dressed when I come in, looking in the small mirror we were able to get for her and frowning.

"Hey," I say, going in.

She looks up. "Hey," she says quietly.

"Nervous?"

"It gets more and more likely each year that one of us would get reaped…" she frowns and speaks quietly. I give her a hug.

"We'll be alright," I say quietly. "It'll all be okay. I promise. I have to wake Trey, okay? Then I'll be out for breakfast."

"Okay," she says quietly. I go to Trey's small little room.

"Hey," I say, "Time to wake up."

His interestingly gray eyes open and look at me sadly. He knows what day it is. He doesn't want to get out of bed. He does, though, and I go out to where our small breakfast of bread is on the table. Leah gives me some.

"You're beautiful," I say.

"Thanks," she says, looking sad. "Wish the occasion would be happier."

Trey comes down just then, smiling despite the occasion. I know he's trying to make us feel better. "Hey! Morning!" I smile and pat his head as he eats the breakfast he was given. More like brunch at this time. I wish we didn't have to wait so long for the reaping to start.

"I can get Marlene up," Leah says. "If you want to go see Jackson."

"Ooo, _Jaaackson_ ," Trey says teasingly. Leah tries her best to smile and I manage one for his sake.

"Thanks. I'll see you afterward." I kiss both of their heads and head out the door.

I find Jackson, the sun shining off his bald head and making him easy to find.

"Hey you," I say, smiling as soon as I see him. He's helped me through so much…

"Hey," he says, giving me a hug and a kiss in greeting. I hold him close, hugging him tightly. I feel his heart beat and hear his breathing in my ear, knowing that he's here. He's warm and he smells so familiar, and I love him so much. I kiss his jaw gently.

"I'm so scared," I confess quietly, frowning. "I don't want to go to the Games…"

"You won't. You won't, it'll all be alright." I bury my face in his neck, and it feels warm and familiar and I feel much calmer.

"It'll be fine." I cling to him for a while, then he takes my hand and we walk together, talking about sweet nothings that only serve to get my mind off of things. He's sweaty and I know it's because he'd been working to get some extra funds. I don't remember what we talk about, but it's a good distraction from the horrors that are to come.

1:00 comes too soon. I have to say goodbye to Jackson and promise to find him later. I get my finger pricked, going all the way to the 18 section and feeling more afraid than ever. I look back and find my sister in the crowd before losing view of her.

The mayor speaks before the escort, Delicia Armand, takes the stage. She's an old, horribly fat person. She's dressed up all in bright red, like an apple. It's so bright and vibrant it's almost impossible to watch.

"Welcome, District 11! To the reaping for the 84th annual Hunger Games!" She's absolutely disgusting. "Today, I am going to select the lucky one young man and one young woman that will get to die a painful and gruesome death in our lovely Capitol!" She's not lying, but sometimes you wish she'd have more faith in us.

She goes over to the girls' bowl and picks out a name. My chest feels tight with nerves.

"Martina Reyés!" I feel like I've been stabbed in the guy. I'm frozen, I don't know what to do… Being reaped when you're from 11 is pretty much a death sentence… I slowly start my way to the stage, finding my parents and Marlene, my brother Trey, Leah, Jackson… I make it up next to Delicia, who is already over by the boys' bowl. She picks a name.

"Edgard Lowell!" There's a long pause. A boy comes out of the 18s section, looking tense but trying to smile. I feel for him. He wants to look good for the cameras, for the sponsors. He's built with muscles and has short, messy, dark hair. He makes it to the stage without breaking.

"Everyone, your District 11 tributes for the 84th Hunger Games, Martina Reyés and Edgard Lowell!"

We're escorted back to the Justice Building.

 _-Edgard Lowell, 18- 20-_

Another reaping day is here.

I sit on the edge of my bed, my big toes grazing the floor, going around in circles.

It's early. Too early. But there's no way I can possibly go back to sleep.

Thoughts, like ghosts, dance around in my head. Murky, hazy, like smoke, that I can't make my way through. Thoughts that scare me and confuse me. Thoughts that I can't sift through, opinions that I can't form. Things that I can't quite figure out.

My future has been assured to me, handed to me on a silver platter. My parents are glad that they can give this to me, that I don't have to worry about toiling my whole life away. They've worked hard to get us here, and I'm really thankful for that… But even so, sometimes I still don't feel like I can carry the legacy on well enough.

I feel so insufficient.

I might be able to live well, but I'll never make anything of myself. _What kind of impact will I leave? Will I ever be anything? No matter who we are, the truth is that someday we'll all end up nothing but dust. The only thing that will live on of me is how I affect others. But I feel like I will never be memorable. What can a guy from 11 of all places do to change or affect anything? Will I ever match up to the expectations?_

I stare at the floor for a while, tracing my toes around on the rough floor. I could barely sleep. Not only do my thoughts haze and confuse me, but whoever Wren chose to bring home last night was so loud. I hate what my brother does, and I hate it even more when moans and giggles and exclamations keep me awake all night. As if I didn't have enough to think about already.

I get out of bed slowly even though I have hours until the reaping. I feel exhausted, but I probably won't be getting back to sleep soon. I can't help staying awake. I wash my face and brush my teeth, fathoming that for some families this is a privilege that seems almost unreachable.

I don't have to do much to my short, dark hair. I go out of the bathroom, getting dressed in a nice shirt and khakis with some nice shoes. So many people in my own home only have one set of nice clothes, and I have several to choose from. I can't help wondering if there's someone more worthy of being in my shoes than I am. There are so many people in this District that work from the early hours and still have no shoes to put on their feet.

I'm boring and dull, and I feel ultimately inferior. I didn't do anything to deserve this life. I've done nothing significant, and I may not ever. And yet, I have my life planned out for me. I don't have to worry about a thing. I don't deserve what I have. What have I done to get it? My parents have worked so hard to build their business… But what have I done?

I work, sure. But only half days. It's all we need. I go to school in the mornings, work in the afternoons. Not many 18-year-olds in District 11 can say that they still go to school. And what am I taking from it? I'm not particularly bright. I have these opportunities but I haven't used them. There are so many that can only wish someday their children or children's children, some part of their lineage has food on the plate all the time. Probably some great people, and yet I'm here and I'm so… Average.

I adjust my collar, going to the small kitchen to get some breakfast. I'm left by myself. My brother will come down eventually, and I don't want to be here when the girl has to do her walk of shame. That's really when you see the kind of girls they are. Some of them hide their faces, some of them walk with pride, some casually. I've lost track of all the different girls my brother's brought home with him. There never seems to be the same one twice.

I sit by myself, which just gives me even more time to linger on my thoughts. I always end up thinking about myself, and my situation. I know myself so well, and overanalyze what I do. I keep thinking back to conversations I've had with people, how I've messed up, how I've messed up, what I wish I'd said or done. I try not to linger on it, but I have way too much time to think.

The girl comes through the kitchen just then, her hair messy and clothes looking disheveled. She's a quiet one, and I do her a favor and pretend not to notice her sneaking out. I sit there and stare at the wall as she slips out the door.

Wren comes down the stairs just then. He doesn't have to worry about the reaping anymore, but still supports me when the time comes. This is my last one, and I haven't had to take tesserae.

"Are you going to the bar before the reaping?" he asks as he gets breakfast. No, I don't drink. He's talking about the bar my parents own and run. We both help them run the bar when we can.

"I'll probably drop by to talk to Mom and Dad before the reaping." He nods.

"I'll be there when I get dressed." I nod and head out the door.

The summer breeze is soft and it feels nice. I walk to the bar, which isn't all too far from our place. It's nice to have the bar so close. Since I'm not going to school because they wouldn't have school on a reaping day, I have time to work and help out before the time comes.

I find Mom and Dad and wave to them. They're working hard behind the counter, and I quickly go to lend a hand. I don't mix drinks as much as I just go run and fetch what they tell me to, which is fine by me. I fetch drinks for those that order and see a group of Peacekeepers waving for some more. Igor's face is still contorted slightly with a pout, while Violan has his feet on the table. Tavion is more casual about it. He only drinks every once in a while saying something about a day that deserves it. They all love reaping day. They like to make bets on the tributes when they're reaped. I've seen them, heard them. It's sick.

I go back to the counter and see Zinnia Verone there. Zinnia is an employee of the bar, and she works very hard when I'm not there to help with the bustle.

"Hey Edgard," she says.

"Is Kayla with you?" I ask.

"No, she isn't. She wanted you to meet her at Mich's place before the reaping, though."

"Oh. Okay. I still have some work to do first, but I'll go there when I can." I go off to get more drinks for paying customers.

After my shift and some lunch, I quickly leave to find Mich and Kayla before the reaping. I knock on the door of the mayor's house, Mich's father. Mich opens the door, Kayla behind them, both of them dressed in their best.

"I was wondering when you were going to show up!" Kayla says.

"Sorry. I got roped into a shift at the bar before the reaping."

"I figured. That's why I told my Mom to tell you to meet us."

"Who are you going to kiss good luck this year?" I joke. Kayla's always been concerned with finding the one. I haven't really worried about it, I've barely even wanted to think about it. Too confusing for me. I'm indecisive, and though it'll be nice when I figure out who I want to settle with, I haven't made it a priority.

Kayla rolls her eyes. "I don't have anyone like that. In a couple of years, it'll be Milos." Kayla is 17, and her little brother Milos is 10. In two years, Kayla will be safe from the reaping, but Milos will just be beginning it. Kayla's never going to get a break, not until Caritta finishes the reaping. And she's only 7, so it's going to be a while still.

"Are you ready to go to the Square?" Mich asks, giving me a nervous look. I swallow hard and nod, though I don't feel ready at all and probably never will.

We walk together, the three of us, all in silence. The usual banter and sarcasm and jokes is replaced with a nervous veil of fear.

We get our fingers pricked and then say goodbye to Kayla as we go our separate ways. Luckily, I'll have Mich to be there and support me. His father speaks, looking grim. "It's our last year," Mich whispers when his father is done with his speech. I swallow hard and nod as Delicia Armand takes the stage.

"Welcome, District 11! To the reaping for the 84th annual Hunger Games!" She smiles with her crimson apparel that makes her look like a giant fat apple. "Today, I am going to select the lucky one young man and one young woman that will get to die a painful and gruesome death in our lovely Capitol!" Frank, but true. She says it because she hates the lower Districts, she doesn't care if we go off and die. She doesn't have a care in the world.

She goes over and picks the female name. "c!" There's a slight pause before a girl comes from the crowd of 18-year-olds. Her dark hair is brought away from her face in cornrows, and she has very wide brown eyes and thick black lashes. She looks afraid, and terrified of being in the Games. She steps up onto the stage slowly. Delicia guides her over to the center, with a very obviously fake smile.

Then, she goes to the boys' bowl. She reaches a plump hand in and chooses a name. I can barely focus on anything but the panic, my heart beating hard, the blood roaring in my ears…

Everyone in my section takes a step away from me. When I look over at Mich, he's trembling, his face contorted in devastated panic.

I realize that I must have been… Reaped.

I force a smile across my features, keeping the Capitol sponsors in mind as I start up to the stage. I try to look confident and happy, as always, even if I'm horrified on the inside and panicking. I make it up to the stage, barely able to make myself think about the future. My parents are crying, particularly my mother. Kayla is shaking her head, as if she doesn't believe it. Wren is staring, in shock.

I stick out my hand and Martina shakes it. Then, Delicia announces us again and ushers us back to the Justice Building.

Mich and Kayla come in first, and Mich is the first to hug me tightly.

"Edgard… You have to come home…"

"I know," I say quietly, hugging my friends tightly. "I'll do my best." I bite my lip. "I can't really promise-"

"Shut up!" Kayla sniffles and wipes at her eyes. "Don't talk like that. You have to believe in yourself and have some faith. You have to do it for us! We need you to come back!

I release Mich and take my crying friend into my arms, hugging her tightly. "Sh… I'm only being realistic." After all, I'm nothing special. I'm just a kid from an outer District. We only have three Victors. Out of 84 Games. I feel sick to the stomach thinking about going into an Arena.

"You're going to win!" she shouts, crying. "You have to win!"

"Sh…" I know that nothing I say is going to make her stop now. I would be devastated if it were her or Mich.

"Thank you both for your friendship. We shared some good times."

"Don't talk in the past tense!" she shouts.

"Don't talk like you're going to die," Mich says with a nod, much calmer.

"Okay," I say quietly. "But thank you. I love you guys and you've done a lot for me."

We make a giant group hug, and stay there until Kayla's sobs quiet into sniffles. I hold my friends close, enjoying their warmth. It's possible that time's already up, but when the Peacekeepers come, I see that it's a couple of regulars to the bar, Violan and Tavion, and they're a lot gentler and more lenient than they'd be on someone else.

"Edgard… Kid… We've given you all the time we could."

We let go and Mich puts an arm around Kayla for support.

"Thanks for everything," I tell them.

"Come home, Edgard. You have to," Mich says, and they both leave.

My family comes in next. My mother is weeping, so I give her a big, tight hug first. "Mom…"

"Edgard," she say, sobbing. She holds me tightly and I feel her shaking breaths. "You have to get home!"

"Mom, I promise I'll do my best to get back. But I can't promise anything."

"I love you!" she lets me go, wiping at her eyes, and I hug my father tightly.

"Love you, Edgard," he says quietly.

"Love you too," I say quietly. "Thanks for all you've done."

Wren still looks in shock when I give him a hug. My brother hugs me back.

"Come home," he says, his usually bright voice dark and sad. "Please."

"I'll do my best. Go on without me if I don't, okay?"

He only hugs me tighter. "Love you, little bro."

"Love you too."

When I say that, my mother runs over and joins the hug with a loud sob, and my father joins last. We stay there, a big, hugging family. My mother sobs but the rest of us are dead silent.

"So sorry Lowells, but we can't let you stay any longer," says Tavion. I lose the warmth of my family as they let me go.

"Love you," I tell them. They all respond with the same as they're escorted out.

 _-Martina-_

My parents are the first to come in. They look exhausted and worn out, not to mention older than they are. If I win the Games, I could win a better life for them and they'll never have to work again in their lives. That would be nice.

My mother is crying quietly, wiping her eyes. I hug her tightly, and she hugs me back, crying. Even my father is shedding tears when I hug him.

"Martina… Please get back…"

"I'll do my very best," I promise. We say our last "I love you"s before my parents are escorted out.

Next, Tristan and Mariah come in, carrying Demarcus with them. Mariah sniffles and Tristan is crying, causing tears to come out of my eyes. I hug Tristan tightly.

"I love you Martina," he says, holding me tightly. "Come home."

"I'll try… Don't count me out…" he releases me and gives me a kiss on the head.

I give Mariah a hug as well. "You're such a good sister," she says quietly. "I love you."

"Love you too." Mariah fits in perfectly with the family, she immediately became one of us. I give Demarcus a kiss on his forehead. "I'm going to get back to you. I want you to know your Aunt Martina."

"You have to," says Tristan. "He needs his oldest Auntie there."

"I'll be back." I try a smile through tears, and get last hugs from my brother and his wife before they have to go.

Marlene runs in next, sobbing loudly. She jumps into my arms, sobbing. "You said you wouldn't be reaped!" she sobs.

"Sh… It's okay…"

Trey comes in after her, giving me a sad look, his eyes teary. He sits next to me and I put an arm around my little brother, holding Marlene close to me. She hugs me tightly, as if that will prevent me from going.

"Martina…" Trey looks up at me, his gray eyes full of tears that pour out and roll down his cheeks. I pull him closer and he buries his face in my side. I hold them close.

"I love you guys," I say quietly. "No matter what happens, it's going to be alright. I'm going to do my very best to win."

"You have to come home!" Trey sobs.

"I will."

"I love you Tina," Marlene says, burying her teary face in my neck.

"Love you," Trey echoes, as the Peacekeepers come into force them off of me.

Leah is the next to come in, sobbing as tears roll down her cheeks. I take her into a tight hug and she hugs me back, sobbing.

"Leah, you're going to have to take responsibility for the younger ones, alright?" I ask quietly.

"I c-can't-"

"You can. You'll have to. You can do it."

"I love you!" she sobs, holding me tighter.

"I love you too," I say, holding her tightly. She hugs me and sobs until they force her away from me.

Jackson is the last to visit. I run to him, sobbing, and hug him tightly. Even Jackson is crying, and that's devastating.

"I'm going to get home," I say, hugging him tightly and crying into his shoulder.

"You're strong and determined," he says in my ear. "I love you so much, I need you home…"

I sob into his neck, and he guides my chin up, making me look into his slightly teary dark eyes. "You can do it. I love you so much, we all need you home."

"I'm taking the flower."

"Huh?"

"That cherry blossom flower… That you gave me…" I sniffle quietly. "F-For the promise ring."

"Oh, that… Isn't it withered?"

"I don't care. I still have it. I'm taking it with me. I'll never forget you. I love you."

"I love you too…" He guides my lips to meet his in a sweet, gentle kiss. It ends too soon, and his warmth is stolen away from me by the Peacekeepers.

"You can make it home! Martina I need you!" he calls as he's taken away.

I sigh quietly, wiping the tears from my eyes as Delicia collects my District partner and I and we're sent away, far from home, to the Capitol.

 _ **A/N: Another chapter up! Man, 42 is serving as a great motivator! Hopefully the D12 reapings will be out sometime this weekend, if I get a chance to write them! And then we'll have met all our tributes, which is when this story will really kick off! I really am trying to give you guys fast updates, but still high-quality, so I only write when I'm really in the mood to. I hope you guys liked this chapter and enjoyed the characters!**_

 _ **I think that's all I have to say for now! I mean, if you're bored and want a really awesome story to read/submit to, remember that my friend Wetstar's doing a partial SYOT called Magnets and needs tributes still and it's going to be SO good I highly suggest you check it out!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Submitters, how did you like your tributes? Non-submitters, which one stood out more and why?**_

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 _ **Kate: 348**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 97**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 86**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **OncerTillTheEnd: 4**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 81**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 80**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **Sagerose the Divergent: 10**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 101**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 22**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **Sinfonian Legend: 425**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 5**_

 _ **the victor of panem: 11**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 71**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 126**_


	14. D12 Reaping

_-Wren Ponderosa, 17- Mystical Pine Forest-_

Pa calls me awake out of the dream.

I sit up, rubbing my head, feeling how messy my hair is and how it must be sticking up. I blow some of the blonde strands out of my face and sigh quietly. My eyes are still slightly teary and I pat at them. I had dreamt about a happy memory, but waking up into reality I know that she isn't here.

I know that I'm lucky to even _have_ memories about my Grandma, considering that so many people have lost their grandmothers before they were even born. Especially those Seam kids. I feel bad talking about how much I loved my Grandmother in front of Emberly, because her Grandma didn't live past 45.

I hug a pillow and lay my head back down. The reaping doesn't start until 1:30, after all.

Soon, though, I realize I'm still groggy from the dream and the crying. But even so, I can't make myself go back to sleep. After 20 minutes or so, I give up on trying to go back to sleep. When I close her eyes, I see her face again. It was three years ago when it happened, but I still remember the whole experience so well. Back before Jay started messing around with that girl and actually cared.

I get up and get out of bed, going to the bathroom to wash my face and do my hair, taking time to braid the bangs nicely away from my face. I look in the mirror and wish that we didn't live here, in 12. There's nothing here to make you prettier. We don't have much toothpaste, no make-up or nail polish, it was hard for me to even find bands to tie up my hair with.

I sigh quietly, going back to my room to put on my dress, my heart fluttering with nerves. The last thing any of us want is to be reaped. I put on the woven bracelet, that matches my two best friends'. I have to have them close to me today.

I go down the kitchen, where Ma hands me some bread and jam for breakfast. Pa's not here, and I assume he's working in the shop.

"Is Robyn still asleep?" I ask. It's only 9. I hope she is. Ma nods.

"And Jay?"

She shakes her head. "He's with-"

"Yeah." My brother is 19 and safe from reapings this year. Lucky him. Just a few more years until I'm safe. Robyn, my younger sister at 14, still has time to wait before she's safe.

When I finish breakfast, I get up. "I think I'm going to the cemetery before the reaping."

My mother looks up. "Wren… That's not-"

"Ma. Please." I make sure she knows how serious I am.

She sighs. "Be extremely careful. Keep your guard up. Come back home so you can walk with your sister to the reaping."

"Will do." Ma is strict but doesn't want to hold me back.

I go out through the Seam to the cemetery. I walk in through the mud on the ground from the rain yesterday, not minding how it's going to stain my shoes.

I walk through the graveyard. The only sound is that of the wind whistling and rustling the leaves. My steps don't even make noise, because it's so muddy.

I walk along, looking at the section of Games graves. It makes my stomach turn knowing that I could easily be one of them. Just another name that faded away. Never to be remembered or thought of again after five years or so.

I see another figure there that looks much bigger and stronger than me. I'm not used to seeing anyone here when I come to see my grandmother's grave, so it startles me. I keep my guard up, unsure of what kind of shady figures might be lingering around in a place like this so early in the morning.

To get to my grandmother's grave, I walk past the rest of the Games graves, trying to sneak by unnoticed.

"You lost someone to the Games?" I jump at the voice, stopping in my tracks.

"No… I'm actually here to see my grandmother's grave…"

"…Oh." He gets down on his knees in front of the grave he's looking at. A Games that happened 11 years ago. We barely cover it in school because the boy was pretty and he didn't last long.

"You still come here?"

He scratches the back of his neck, and his sleeves are rolled up just enough that I can see tattoos all up his arms. "Yeah. Call it pathetic, but I always come back here on reaping day."

"I get it…"

His fingers graze the letters. "I carved this. So long ago… Worst day of my life. Well, one of them. Being from the Seam, there have been plenty."

"I'm sorry…"

"He was young. But so full of joy. He's not someone easily forgotten." I hope that if I were to be a Games grave, someone would feel the same way about me.

"I'm sorry."

He looks up at me, his gray Seam eyes looking heavy. "Enjoy your youth. Your friendships. Your life. While you still have it. These are the memories you're going to go to when things are pointless."

"Yeah. Thanks for the advice."

"And if you're ever looking to get a tattoo, then come find me." He gives me a small snaggle-toothed grin before he gets up. "The name's Dennis Kasparek."

"Wren Ponderosa," I say quietly, looking at the name carved on the grave Dennis is kneeling by.

"Good luck at the reaping, Wren."

"Thanks," I say quietly. I go to find my grandmother's grave.

After spending a while kneeling there, I get up and go to find my friends. I see Tansy and Emberly together, chatting, and go over to them. They both smile when they see me.

"Hey Wren!" Tansy says. She's always been the loudest of the group. Sometimes she's a little much, but I love her anyways. She always means well. She gives me a smile, her blue eyes alight. Tansy looks like my family, from the merchant class with blonde hair and blue eyes. My eyes are more blue-grayish, which is odd, but genetics can be that way.

"I'm so not ready for today," Emberly says, crossing her arms. She's more likely to be reaped because she had to take tesserae for her family. Of course she'd be nervous.

"It'll be fine, Emberly. I know it." I give her a hug, but she just sighs. "We should get going."

"Oh, I promised I'd get home real quick. For Robyn. Want to come with?"

"Sure!" Tansy says and Emberly nods a bit. I start back home and see Robyn sitting outside.

"Hey Squirt!" Tansy says, ruffling her hair. Robyn huffs.

"Ready to go?" I ask my sister, holding out a hand to her. She nods and takes my hand, and together we start out for the reaping. None of us talk as we get blood taken from our fingers. I stop and give my sister a big hug. "Love you."

"Love you too," she says quietly. We separate, her going to the 14 section and the rest of us going to the 17-year-old section.

I take Tansy's hand and she squeezes it. I see her matching bracelet on her wrist.

Mayor Undersee makes his speech and my heart flutters with nerves. When he's done speaking, Effie Trinket comes on the stage, her heels being the only noise in the whole District.

"Welcome, welcome," she says, smiling with her deep pink lips. "To the reaping for the 84th annual Hunger Games!"

I feel slightly sick. She shows us the video, "straight from the Capitol!" I squeeze Tansy's hand, who squeezes mine back, hard. Effie smiles and claps and says her typical, "Ladies first!" She fluffs her huge, powder blue wig as she goes to the bowl. She dips her hand in and swirls it around in the bowl, hearing the slight rustling of the paper. She picks a name from the middle of the bunch and walks back to the microphone, the light making her white powdered skin look ghostly.

She unfolds the unlucky name and reads. "Wren Ponderosa!"

My eyes widen, realizing that I was just reaped. My eyes fill with tears that drop out as I start walking to the stage. The odds were really for me, I haven't taken tesserae… And yet, here I go. I start crying quietly, my vision blurred with tears as I take shallow breaths, gasping with tears as I go. I make it up the stairs as Effie touches my shoulder gently, guiding me to center stage.

"Yes. And now for the boy." She goes to the boy's bowl and picks out a name, some people in the District murmuring in surprise that a merchant girl was reaped.

"Leo Aslan!" The crowd goes silent again as a boy comes out from the 16 section. He has tan skin, dark hair, and brown eyes. "Leo? Leo Aslan?" There's a pause as the boy comes walking out from the 16 section, walking up the stairs. When he's shown up close, I see tears going down his cheeks. I recognize him, I've seen him working around the bakery… I don't know much about him, nothing at all, he never really talks…

"Shake hands now," Effie says, nudging both of us. He puts a hand out to me and I take it, shaking it.

"Very good! District 12, your tributes! Wren Ponderosa and Leo Aslan!"

The crowd is completely silent as Leo and I go back to the Justice Building.

 _-Leo James Aslan, 16- W. R. Winters-_

Albus is crying when I go into his room. I figured he'd be like this. I knock on the wall, causing him to look up, as I go into his room.

His brown hair, usually slightly messy, is everywhere. His green eyes are veiny and red, his cheeks slightly swollen as tears stream down his face. I wrap my arms around my brother. It's really no wonder he's like this. Today is his first reaping.

He buries his face in my neck and sobs. I rub his back gently, trying to get him to calm down. I take steady breaths, trying to use that to help him calm down.

I know he's afraid. I hug him close.

Damnit, I wish I could do something to reassure him. I want to tell him he'll be okay without letting go of him. He presses his face into my shoulder and I hear sobs that are muffled by my shoulder. I just continue to hug him close, try to calm his hyperventilating breaths. I hold him for a long time, as his sobs gradually quiet into slight whimpers.

I release my brother, reaching up and wiping away his tears gently. He sniffles, his eyes still teary.

"You'll be alright."I move my fingers, hoping that he'll understand what I sign to him. Albus is the most devoted to signing in my family. Probably because he looks up to me more than any of them. He always puts an effort in to figure out what I want to say, because I can't say it out loud.

"What if though?" the tears come back to his eyes and stream down his cheeks. I shake my head and flip the dark hair out of my eyes. I shake my head at him. He won't have to face the Games, the odds are totally against it.

Then, I take a breath and force a smile across my features. It has to be quite convincing for Albus, but eventually he buys it.

He gives me another hug, breathing calmly and not crying anymore (at least it's something).

"I love you Leo," Albus says quietly, hugging me.

I give him a gentle pat on the back and sign, "I love you" to him.

I go to Dereck's room first, looking in at my younger brother. He's 14, and I've heard so much that "Dereck's just stolen all of Leo's words away, hasn't he!?" so many times that I want to kill someone. That's really not as funny as everyone thinks it is. Especially considering how much Dereck and I butt heads. He thinks that just because he can talk, and because he talks a lot, that he's always right. He refuses to argue with me, just ignoring what I sign in favor of his own (wrong) opinions. Even so, I hope he wouldn't be reaped. I love him, he's still my brother. Even if he's intolerable sometimes.

Then there's Rebecca, the youngest at 6. She knows the Games, but she doesn't understand them. We've been lucky, even though we're all starving slowly, we haven't experienced too much death. Yet. Then again, with Dad overworking himself in the mines… I try to avoid thinking about that. The thought makes me sick.

She sleeps peacefully, and I don't want to wake her. I leave her, keeping my footsteps silent. I'm good at being silent.

Then, I ruffle his hair, getting up. After all, both of us are still in our PJ's. I go off to get changed, though I have to go pretty fast to make it to my job on time.

I put on the nicest shirt I own and some good pants before pawing at my hair to get it to cooperate and head to the main room of the house where we eat and sit and watch the Games.

"Oh, Leo, you're awake." My mother goes over and gives me a hug. She hugs me tightly, and I can tell that her smile is forced. Her lips start to quiver and she cries quietly into my neck. She's always like this on reaping day, trying to hide her tears and fears and ultimately failing. Especially because today is Albus's first.

She hands me a small piece of bread, which I eat quickly for breakfast. Then, she kisses the top of my head. "I know you have to get to work, but if I don't see you before the reaping, I love you and I'll see you afterward."

I nod, signing one last "I love you" to her before I head out the door.

I go to the bakery, where I work for low pay and extra scraps. The baker, Mr. Mellark, is very kind, though he's getting older and dealing with his wife is honestly putting years on him. Soon, the business will go to one of his two sons. I think he had a third son, younger than the other two, but he died in the 74th Games. First or second day, if I remember right. He didn't have much of a reason to get home.

Anyways, the two Mellark boys are nice enough. They don't really associate with me because my family's so dirt poor, and because they don't understand sign language. That's fine by me, though. I'm just glad to have a job.

On the way, I stop and scoop up a handful of dirt from the trail I was walking on, patting it on my arms. I don't care if it looks dirty. It covers the scars. Everyone thinks I'm some weird outlier because I'm mute, and the scars really don't help. The ash and dust covers them well though.

I go into the bakery and greet Mr. Mellark, who gives me a small tart for reaping day and puts me to work rolling out dough. I don't talk to the other people there, and as usual, Mrs. Mellark is yelling orders at them and banging her fists against counters when she doesn't get her way. What a horrible woman she is.

I just keep my head down and keep on doing the work I'm assigned. That's how I usually am.

Mr. Mellark tells me I can leave, sending me off with a loaf that is slightly overcooked and a bag of small cookies for my siblings. I go back home to eat a small lunch and drop off the rest of the food. Dereck is out, but Albus and Rebecca give me hugs before the reaping. I take Albus by the hand and together we go to the Square.

Albus stays close to me as we catch up to Zack, my best friend.

"Hey you two!" he says, giving us a wave and flashing us a smile.

I wave and Albus stays close to me with a quiet, "Hi."

"Got some reaping day jitters?"

"I'm so scared," says Albus, moving closer to me. I squeeze his hand lightly. I hate hanging out with more than two people at once because the people that can talk always shut me out, even if they don't mean to. I mean, I'm glad Zack is here. He can raise anyone's spirits.

"Hey, no worries! After the reapings, we can do something totally awesome, you, Leo, and me! Sound good?"

Albus looks over at him, smiling a bit. "Yeah. Okay."

We get in line with the other teens, Zack putting a hand on my back reassuringly.

"Now, they're gonna give you a prick, but it's really no big deal. Just think of it like a bee sting, but it doesn't last as long. And it doesn't make a bump or anything. It's really not bad. Think you can do it?"

"Yeah, sure," says Albus with a small smile. I get my blood taken first, then Zack, and Albus lasts. My brother puts his finger out, looking nervous, but doesn't freak out, thanks to Zack.

"We'll catch you after the reaping for some fun, okay?" Zack asks.

"Yeah," says Albus quietly, "Sure."

"I love you," I sign to Albus, giving him one last hug before we separate.

Zack and I go to the 16 section together.

"You good?" he asks me. I give him a typical smile and nod. _Of course I'm fine,_ I think _._

The mayor makes his whole speech, seeming grim. I swallow hard as Effie Trinket comes to the stage, her skin powdered white, lips pink, hair powder blue. She shows us the video, all these visions of "War. Terrible war." _Yeah, 84 years ago. We get it, there was a war._

The video ends with the last note of the Capitol anthem, and Effie smiles and sighs as if it never gets old. It gets old really fast.

"Ladies first!" she goes over to the girl's bowl. I don't have any girls to worry about, Rebecca still has 6 years before she even has to care about the reaping. Her first will be Albus's last.

"Wren Ponderosa!" she announces it loud and clear. There's a pause before a girl emerges from the 17 section. She has blonde hair and her appearance, her clothes, her expression all scream Merchant class. She looks just like every other blonde Merchant child that's sent to the bakery by her parents to pick up some bread. I've probably seen her before but they all look the same to me. She looks to be crying as she walks up to the stage, and I honestly do feel bad for her. I hate to see someone so upset, especially because she's going to be sent off into a fight to the death.

Effie guides her to stand in the center of the stage as she tries to stop or control her tears, and Effie goes to the other bowl to pick a boy's name.

 _Not Albus… Not Albus…_

"Leo Aslan!"

My heart sinks down to my stomach. I've just been reaped. I can't make my body move out of fear and shock.

"Leo? Leo Aslan?" I keep hearing my name and yet I can't make myself move… Move, dammit, get up there! I can't make myself do anything. I feel a push and stumble forward, slowly making my way to the stage as I feel tears roll down my cheeks. I put my hand out as Effie pats our shoulders to make us shake hands. Wren shakes my hand.

Effie presents us again like we've just won the Olympics, but nobody makes a sound. I found my parents in the crowd and see that they're crying. We're taken to the Justice Building.

My parents and Rebecca are the first to appear. I hug my mother first, who sobs loudly. "Leo Leo Leo!" She hugs me tightly and sobs loudly. My father is there, and I enjoy seeing him because he's out so much. Shame it's because of this.

Mom refuses to let me go so Dad just joins the hug instead. I hold them close.

Rebecca starts crying. "What's happening?"

"Leo's going to go away," Dad says, "Possibly for a long time. We're here to say goodbye."

"No!" Rebecca sniffles. I escape my parents' grips before I kneel to be her height and give her a really big hug. "Come back," she sobs quietly. "Please…"

I nod a bit, and sign, "I'll do my best." My parents and sister hug me one last time as the Peacekeepers come in, and they take Rebecca out peacefully, who sobs.

Dereck and Albus come together. Albus sobs as he goes over and runs to me, hugging me tightly.

"Leo please! Be a Victor! Fight! Please!" he sobs. "Come home, I need you home!" He hugs me and I hug him tightly, trying to reassure him but now I know there's nothing I'm going to be able to do to stop his tears.

I hug Albus and stroke his hair.

"Good luck out there," says Dereck, uncharacteristically quietly. The words are gone. He doesn't know what to say. For once, my brother has no idea what to say.

I let go of Albus to give Dereck a quick hug.

I sign "I love you" to both of them, and they return it out loud. Albus copies the sign, his eyes teary as he sniffles and whimpers. Albus clings to me until the Peacekeepers force him to go.

Last in is Zack. He gives me a tight hug that I'm grateful for. I need his support at this point in time.

He releases me and we sit together. "Leo, you can do it."

I know I can't put on the happy face anymore. I know that he knows that I'm not okay. After all, I already cracked with the tears on my way to the stage. I can't pretend to be okay anymore. Zack will see right through it. I just shrug a little bit and sign, "I don't know."

"You can," he says, crossing his arms. "I know you can."

I stare at my feet, my eyes pooling up with more tears that I hate. I hate to look weak, especially like this.

He takes my wrist, and presses an object into my palm. It's a ring, with a tiny, rugged diamond on it.

"See this? It's been in my family for a long time. And Leo, the only difference between a diamond and a lump of coal was the circumstances in which it was formed. And you really are a diamond amongst the coal, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Okay?"

I nod a little bit. I'll think of those words every time I see it. That little ring could very well be the difference between life and death. If I see it, I'll remember Zack, I'll remember my home. I have to get back to my friends and family.

"Love you man, I'll see you soon."

I nod and sign it back. He gets up and walks out the door.

Effie appears in the doorway just then, taking my arm and guiding me out with Wren to board the train.

 _-Wren-_

Ma and Pa come in first. I get up, running to them and hugging them tightly. The tears come back, and I let out a small sob as I hug Pa first.

He hugs me tightly, and he feels tense. He's usually tense, really, because of all the work he has to do for the shop. I bury my face in his chest, sobbing and listening to his heartbeat, trying to let it calm me down. He's so warm and smells so familiar…

He holds me close as I sob, and strokes my hair.

"Wren… You can do it… You're a strong young woman and I know you can do it… You have to come home."

"I know Pa," I say quietly, with another sob. "I know…"

I let go of him to hug Ma, who is crying just as hard as I am. She strokes my hair, holding me tight.

"Be careful, get home," Ma says, "We need you, we love you Wren…" She buries her face with another sob, causing me to cry harder.

I hug her tightly, and soon after, Pa joins the hug. I listen to his steady breaths, letting his warmth and calm attitude calm me down a bit.

"You're not like most 12 tributes, Wren," Pa says quietly. "You're older, you're better-off, you have it in you." He hugs Ma and I tightly. All I can do is sniffle and nod.

"Time's up!" calls a Peacekeeper.

"I love you Ma, I love you Pa," I say, wiping at my eyes with another sob.

"Love you too, Wren," Ma says.

"Love you so much," Pa says. They leave without the Peacekeepers having to force them.

Next in are my siblings. Robyn is sobbing and looks horrible, her hair messed up, her eyes pooling with tears. She runs over and practically knocks me over in a tight hug.

"You have to come home Wren! You can't die!" I hug my sister tightly, smoothing her hair down.

"I know," I say quietly. "I won't die. I'll come home."

"You have to!" she lets out loud sobs, not even trying to control them.

"I will."

Jay gives me a one-armed hug around Robyn. "Love you," he says. He's about to pull away when I force him to come close. I whisper in his ear with an ice cold tone. "If I die, you have to be there for Robyn. You can't keep drooling over that girl, you have to be there to support her. I don't care how great that girl is, Robyn is your sister. She's already in a hard time because of puberty, and this will make it worse. You have to be there." He frowns at me, but he nods.

We stay in a big huddle. "Love you guys," I say quietly.

"Love you too," they echo sadly, before Robyn lets out another sob.

The Peacekeepers pull my siblings away from me.

Lastly in comes Tansy and Emberly. Tansy cries loudly and hugs me tightly, and Emberly joins the hug.

"Wren… Please don't give up!" Tansy cries.

"I won't." I can't promise I will win, but I can promise that I will do my very best. I won't give up on making it home.

"Never give up," Emberly says quietly. She doesn't cry but she still sounds sad. "Get home. Don't stop until you're home."

"I'll try my hardest. I love you guys."

"Love you too," they both echo. We stay close, hugging, Tansy and I crying.

"Time's up!"

My friends are pulled away from me and I have to watch them get dragged out the door.

Then, Effie grabs me and takes Leo, and together, we walk out to the train. I watch our District disappear into the unknown as we speed away on the train.

 _ **A/N: PRAISE GOD FROM WHOM ALL BLESSINGS FALL I'M FINALLY DONE WITH THE REAPINGS! Ugh. Writing all 24 reapings is a bad idea and I highly suggest you don't do that. Especially not with 2000 words a tribute. But, I feel like I have a good idea of these tributes now, so it's something!**_

 _ **I'm putting a poll up on my profile to vote for favorite tribute. I'm allowing two options for voting because let's be real here, most everyone is biased towards their own. But that's a good thing because what kind of creator isn't attached to their character? So I ask that if you vote for your own that you vote for someone else's as well.**_

 _ **Here's a quick recap of the tributes, because I don't want you to have to reread everything to remember them.**_

 _ **Iridesce- Volunteer from 1, genderfluid, sarcastic but determined.**_

 _ **Callum- Academy dropout that volunteered when the designated volunteer, (Gravity FUCKING Stowers), was reaped for his grandparents.**_

 _ **Maggie- 16, volunteered because nobody else is, close to her girlfriend Hannah**_

 _ **Vidarr- reaped away from his wife Ashe because he dropped out from service to the Capitol's secret forces**_

 _ **Cyra- Has a boyfriend named Lennon and a young nephew**_

 _ **Ductor- 80 percent deaf because of an ice skating accident**_

 _ **Serafina Anya- Forced to volunteer because the girl who was number one dropped out**_

 _ **Collin- Lost his father to a boating accident, doesn't want to volunteer but feels obliged to**_

 _ **Cory- Selective mute after her parents were both killed and lives with her uncles.**_

 _ **Hamilton- Always feels overshadowed by his annoying jerk big brother.**_

 _ **Billie-Deaf and also very salty.**_

 _ **Amari- A dudebro who usually means well but sometimes doesn't mean well.**_

 _ **Riella- Chose her girlfriend Andy over her parents, who didn't accept her.**_

 _ **Kendal- Bookworm from 7 that lives with his aunt.**_

 _ **Felicity- Pregnant and CRAZY.**_

 _ **Nautica- Part of a gang.**_

 _ **Karima- Likes things to be on schedule and has a superiority complex with people her age**_

 _ **Kade- Homeless after losing his sister to the Games.**_

 _ **Rachel- Works for the butcher and is homeless.**_

 _ **Raoul- Plays the fiddle**_

 _ **Martina- Has siblings she cares much for a boyfriend named Jackson she loves.**_

 _ **Edgard- Works in his parent's bar, is very insecure and confused**_

 _ **Wren- Merchant girl who is very loyal to her friends.**_

 _ **Leo- Mute, devoted to family though is slightly outcasted**_

 _ **So, now that everyone's introduced I'll probably eventually start adding things about them to the blog, so stay tuned for that! Also, if you keep watch, my partial SYOT for the 42**_ _ **nd**_ _ **Games will probably be up tomorrow or tonight! Every tribute will get another POV before the Games begin, but I'm dividing them out strategically so they won't necessarily be in order.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Submitters of tributes- Are there any tributes that you think your tribute would want to ally with or would get along with? Any they'd butt heads with? Non-submitters- Who is your favorite out of the bunch?**_

 _ **So the next step for me is figuring out the Cornucopias and alliances, and I'll let you know about the process for that either next chapter or the one after.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading, this is a really long A/N XD I'll do another Capitol tidbit and then we're into train rides!**_

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 _ **OncerTillTheEnd: 4**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 81**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 80**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **Sagerose the Divergent: 10**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 111**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 22**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **Sinfonian Legend: 435**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 5**_

 _ **the victor of panem: 11**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 71**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 136**_


	15. Diesel Bundren, Pre-Reapings

_-Diesel Bundren, co-Head Gamemaker: Pre-reapings-_

I walk to the board room for the scheduled meeting, holding my clipboard close to my chest and twisting my engagement ring around my finger.

As co-Head Gamemakers, Santana and I got to plug people into whatever positions we wanted. So, naturally, I hooked up my girls. Why wouldn't I? My sister's always dreamt of meeting the tributes up close, and of course I had to put her into her favorite District. Vienna, of course, I love but not as much as my sister (although she doesn't have a bad rack, I must say), so I put her into District 2. I got bitched at by the older escorts who were bumped down and around about how unfair it is, how they've been serving so long they deserve it. Blah, blah, blah, if they wanted to be moved up, they should've had a loved one be a Head Gamemaker.

I offered to plug Viridian into Four, or Three, but he declined, saying that he doesn't want to be employed in the Games. I understand. Ha, before Sharon forced me into school when I came home, I didn't want to be employed in the Games.

Santana plugged Ross in as a Games Theorist. Basically, he knows everything there is to know about the Games, so every time I get a new, brilliant idea (or Santana gets a less brilliant idea), Ross tells us if it's been done before, and if so, what the result was. He'll also be able to tell us what to do if a tribute is acting a certain way. Or, at least, what not to do.

She also plugged in a new announcer, Saxon Hastings. A pretty little bell, that prefers to dress in gold. She was friends with Santana's little brother Ike before he died. She's not nearly as theatrical in real life as she is on the screen, but on the TV she's very well-liked.

I collect my files and papers and catch up with Saxon where she was walking with the Games interviewer, Blaine Buchanan. "Blaine!"

He looks up, adjusting his bright pink hair and smiling at me with magenta eyes. "Good afternoon, Mr. Bundren."

"Call me Diesel!" I tell him, patting him on the back. He's such a nice kid.

"If you insist."

"How've things been going?"

"I'm always nervous for the reapings," he confesses. "It's the first impression of the tributes, and I'm afraid I'm not going to write good enough questions. Hopefully they're not boring or square."

"Don't worry. We're having a meeting right now to discuss the parameters for the tributes. I'll make sure you get some colorful characters."

"Thanks," he says, still sounding slightly nervous.

"Sure thing!" I give him a slap on the back. "I'll talk to you later!" I enter the board room.

There's a table with seats all around it, all of which are filled by important-looking people. I sit down next to the prude, who twirls the ring around her finger. Ross sits on her other side, watching but not saying a word.

"Hey Prude!" I say cheerfully. The bitch looks up, her dark eyes glaring at me. She wears so much make-up all the damn time, and it's not even the tasteful kind. Ugh. I can't believe I'm going to have to marry her, she's disgusting.

"Hi asshole," she fires back, causing me to roll my eyes.

I'm going to blow her out of the water anyways, and be the best Head Gamemaker Panem's ever seen.

To do that, though, you have to be unconventional. Most all of Panem's best have been unconventional, but they also experience the most sever descents. Take Edward O'Callaghan for example, he was so well-loved and then he got busted for involvement with rebels. Or Solitaire Chiarella, who was wildly successful and died so suddenly with the change of the Presidents… Snow can't _stand_ unconventional, but I'm going to be unconventional in the best ways.

Some of the most successful Head Gamemakers get to know their tributes as people, which may make feelings of sympathy. Me, though, I'm going to be different. I'm going to get to know the tributes well, of course, talk to them, learn who they are… Learn the weaknesses, strength, everything that makes them tick… And use it all against them.

You have the pawns at your fingers, but so many Head Gamemakers haven't used them all to their greatest potential. I'm going to. And nobody's ever going to forget it.

I shuffle through my papers idly. Old Snow isn't going to be at the meeting today. He's suddenly fallen unwell, and though they're telling the Capitolites he'll be back soon, we elites know that he's not got much time left. Pretty soon, the old geezer is going to need a replacement.

Snow hasn't been around here at all, but everything I do has been surveyed with a close eye anyways by the sap that's been picked to take his place. Only the best of his cronies could take the position. Someone that will reenergize the Capitol with a lot of personality and charisma, but also believes in all Snow's philosophies.

And he's the literal worst in the _world_.

The President's chair at the head of the table remains empty and hushed conversations fill the room. Suddenly, the door opens, and the President's soon-to-be replacement appears in the doorway.

He's certainly qualified for the job. Not only did he serve as a Peacekeeper for year, he also served as an escort, and as a Gamemaker. Never the Head, but a Gamemaker. He's also frequented talk-shows and television, and has a stage presence unlike any other. He's also Snow's biggest lapdog. He changed his name when he started escorting for District 5 to fit in, and since hasn't changed it back. Joltee Rutilus.

As if he were already the true President, everyone stands as he enters the room, and sits when he sits.

"Welcome, all of you, to the reaping conference for the 84th annual Hunger Games!" The prude stares at her papers on the table. "It's sure a shame that President Snow wasn't able to join us today. But do know that he gave me all the information I needed about the pending reapings."

I was offered to be the frontrunner in the election that he would ultimately be rigged to win, but I turned down the offer. I'd rather die than go through that.

"So, we will start today's proceedings with District 2." He pulls up some pictures and puts them on the screen. "First, the boy. Vidarr Yggdraval." His picture appears on the screen. "It's become my responsibility to ensure he ends up in the Arena after he disgraced the Capitol by dropping out of the Secret Service."

"Shouldn't he have been taken care of a long time ago?" I interject. Joltee looks over at me, giving me an ice-cold smile.

"Yes. He should have. Unfortunately, this fiasco occurred right around the time that the President had just fallen sick. In the panic and chaos of riots and the threat of instability, the issue was never resolved. Now we are going to resolve it. Please, don't doubt those in charge, Mr. Bundren. I assure you we have our reasons."

An important-looking woman speaks up. "Sir, how are we going to do this? If he's reaped-"

"Justus Fiore." The dark-eyed, blond-haired boy disappears from the screen and a different boy appears, looking much more vicious. "Is the boy that has been selected to volunteer from District 2. We can prevent him from volunteering."

Ross speaks next. "Mr. Rutilus, Sir. Won't people think it's… Odd? That a boy from 2 is reaped? Won't they know something is not right?"

"Mr. McCafferty, we have also considered that. Which takes us to District 1." He flicks his finger and the images on the screen change. "The selected volunteer from District 1," he says, pulling up a profile of a boy with curly brown hair and green eyes, "Is named Gravity Stowers. He looks to be the kind that nobody would volunteer for. District 1 is quite serious about it, and he would keep others from volunteering. If we reap him, it won't seem unnatural that the 2 boy is reaped as well."

Ross nods. I certainly wouldn't cross that 1 boy.

"As for the girls, we've been assured that Districts 1 and 2 have it all under control. I trust them. As for District 4, it appears they will also be Careers this year. The selected volunteers will go in as natural and try to get to know the Careers." We all nod.

"Districts 3 and 5 through 12 will all be selected randomly, as is usual. And now we consult our co-Head Gamemakers." He turns to us and raises an eyebrow. "Do you have any special requests for the reaping bowl this year?"

I consider for a second, but suddenly Santana bursts out, "Nobody under 15!" Eveyone looks around, with surprised murmurs. She sounds so desperate. This is all because her damn brother was 14 when he bit the dust. And now I have to save her ass, again!

"She means that because the tributes under 14 are so damn boring and sweet. They're nice to have every once in a while, but the Games we've created aren't going to be any bit entertaining if we have a bunch of youngins that get traumatized the first day."

She glances at me, her eyes slightly teary but surprised. I bet the prude thought I was going to throw her under the bus. She's lucky I had a good relationship with her brother or else I would've let her try to dig herself out of that trench.

Joltee looks like he half believes it. "Very well," he says. "For this year, and this year _only_ , we will only reap tributes fifteen and above. Please, pass the word onto the associates so they can accommodate this request.

"Something else," I say, adding on a slightly bitter "Sir," with it. The others look at me, looking at me like I'm going to get myself killed. "I want to be down there. With the tributes. I want to be down with them after the chariot rides and during training. And I want to talk to them after their interviews."

Santana gives me a look like I'm crazy. Old Joltee tenses even more, giving me a look like he thinks I'm joking. I'm not.

"That's certainly… Unconventional."

"I want to get to know their every strength, weakness and tick. I want to know the dynamic between them. I want to pick only the most suitable and worthy Victor after getting to know them intimately. Too many times we've had Victors that showed potential in their Games, only to be rebellious, dangerous, or just plain unpleasant Victors. I want to know that the Victor of my Games can handle the life and is willing to serve our wishes."

He thinks I'll back down with the threat of death, but right now for me it's all or nothing. Of course I'll be smart when it gets down to it. After all, I'm still a servant to my sister and niece. They need me to stick around. But I'm not one to stop at just good enough.

Santana nods, getting control. "Yes. By knowing the tributes, we'll know how to play them off of each other."

Joltee purses his lips. "President Snow will want you dead if he hears of this." Translation: _You're pushing your sphere of influence too much._

"By the end of the Games, President Snow will either be impressed by the results, or he'll be dead." Translation: _I'm not budging, rat._

"Very well," Joltee says. "Diesel Bundren and Santana Villanueva have permission to visit with the tributes after the chariot rides, during training, and after the conclusion of interviews."

I smile at my Victory. It's too late in the game to replace me now, anyways.

"Are there any other comments or requests?" Nobody else speaks up. Joltee nods and stands up. "Very well. The reapings begin tomorrow at eight o'clock sharp. You are all dismissed. People pack up and start to leave. "Except for you, Mr. Bundren."

Santana gives me a glance, worry in her eyes, but soon she's swatted out with the others.

"Diesel, old pal. It's nice to see you again." He flashes me a devious smile and I sit down.

"You've come far since University."

"You could say. The second that Snow's funeral is over, election season begins. I'll be taking control before anyone knows what's happening. I'm going to zap the nation back into action."

"Fine. I don't want to run the nation, if you're just here to gloat. I barely wanted to be a Head Gamemaker."

"Since I'm in charge, you answer to me now. But I mostly wanted to catch up with an old friend. I thought you might like to know about my most recent fling. I found a really cute pianist named Viridian that seemed to know who you were."

Something about it sets me off. "Viridian is way too good to have slept with you!"

"Sorry bud. I mean, I may not have played fair, but you're not new to _that_ , now are you?" The way he smiles at me… He _knows_ how much this is pissing me off.

"I thought you had a boyfriend."

"Who, Phoebus? He stopped talking to me. He's going to regret that when I'm calling the shots, that's for sure."

"Stay away from Viridian," I warn him, lowering my voice so he can feel how much I mean it. The bastard starts laughing.

"Oh, Diesel. Still haven't changed, have you? Once delusional old Snow collapses, _I_ call all the shots. Which means that I also get _everything_ I want." With that, he stands up. "You're dismissed now." On the way out, he pushes me against the wall with a smile, whispering close to my ear. "When I'm in the Mansion, you're either going to enjoy being my little whore, or you'll be dead."

~.~.

After that fiasco, I go straight to my pride and joy: the Arena we've spent so much time creating. It's only late morning in the real world, but here it's nighttime. It's dark, the stars are covered by clouds but the moon shines through them. Each time I take a step I hear the shuffle of gravel. I find Santana in her favorite place, sitting on top of the biggest hill of the old roller coaster. Of course none of it works anymore, it's been made to seem like it's been abandoned for years and years. It takes some effort, but I use the adrenaline of nerves and rage to make it up, and sit next to her. She looks up in surprise.

"Diesel!" There's a slight pause. "A-Are you alright? You look awful."

"Shut up, Prude. I'm not in the mood." I'm _so_ livid right now. I stare out across the darkness, trying to let it calm me.

"What did he say to you? After the meeting?"

"I told you shut _up_!"

She stays quiet, watching me as I twist the stupid engagement ring around my finger. We sit in silence.

"Thanks…" she says quietly. I look up.

"What?"

"Thanks for covering my ass back there. I… I had a little… Meltdown there."

"Oh. That. It's fine. Just don't do it again."

She nods. "I think about Ike all the time. Even though it's been years and years and years."

"I think about him sometimes too."

"Y…You do?"

"I still have his last letters to me. Sometimes I read them over."

"Oh. Yeah."

We sit in silence for a while. I usually don't like silence, but right now I need it. Putting on an arrogant, confident, always smiling façade is exhausting sometimes.

"Do you ever think about the future?" she asks me.

My stomach flips. "Yeah. Duh. I'll be married to you and we'll both be miserable."

"More than that, though. What if this Games implodes on us?"

"It won't. After all, I made it."

She rolls her eyes. "What if?"

"Then we'd die together." I manage a laugh, but the smile quickly fades away. "Sharon… Sharon wouldn't miss me much though." I try to laugh again, but it doesn't work out very well.

"My parents wouldn't care either. They'd probably say I deserved it if the Arena was bad."

"It's not though. It's pretty from here. And once we add in the…" I actually do laugh a little bit thinking about it, "The _twist_ … Then it'll be the best Games of all time."

"Yeah…" She doesn't seem nearly excited as I feel for it.

"Well, it was fine talking to you. But I have to go." I crawl back down. "Padme should be getting out of school soon."

"Oh. Alright. See you later then."

"Bye Prude!" I put on a smile and wave.

"Bye Asshole." She sounds half-hearted.

I needed to let off that steam before going to pick up my niece from school. I don't want her to see me upset.

I leave work and go to the schoolhouse, where a lot of the young ones are just leaving. They find their parents and friends, and a lot of them point me out.

Suddenly, I see a little pink blur running straight at me and hugging my legs. "Uncle Diesel!"

"Hey Princess!" I give my niece a pat on the head.

"Hi Uncle Diesel!" she readjusts her white and red ball cap, pulling her pink ponytail tighter and smiling up at me. Her eyes are naturally blue like her mother's, which always made me tick.

"Ready to go!"

"Actually, I was wondering… Can I have Marley over to sleep over tonight for the reapings tomorrow?! Please Uncle Diesel! _Please_!"

"What did your mother say?"

"She said if it was okay with you it was okay with her!"

"And her mother?"

"Er, she's an orphan, actually. But she already asked her orphanage mother and she said yes. Please Uncle Diesel! You're the best Uncle ever! Please please please please _pleeeeasseee_!"

"Oh, alright. How can I say no to my Padme?"

"Yay! Thank you Uncle Diesel!" She scurries off and comes back with a girl her age, who wears a fuzzy hat with little cat ears on it, a T-shirt, and ripped jean shorts. She has wavy, dark hair, and bright gray eyes with slight freckles. A streak of her long hair is dyed bright green.

"Can we stop for food on the way?!" Padme asks, her eyes sparkling. "Please Uncle Diesel!"

"Please!" chimes in Marley.

"Oh, alright." I take Padme's hand and she takes Marley's. "Are you ready to see your mother on the big screen tomorrow?" I ask my niece.

"I can't wait!" Padme says.

"Me neither!" Marley says, smiling.

I hold the doors of Padme's favorite café (also her uncle's favorite, kid has good taste) open to them, and she and Marley go in, giggling and sitting in a booth. I sit with them. I just have to stop thinking about Viridian and fucking Joltee for a while. And what better way to do that than spend some time with my target audience?

"Uncle Diesel, will you give us a hint to the Arena!? _Pleeeease_!?"

"Sorry, my lips are sealed."

"Please!" Padme says, and she nudges Marley, who adds another, "Please!"

I laugh. "Sorry girls."

The puppy eyes come out just as a server gives us all drinks. I just ignore them, though. I'm sworn to secrecy, and those in charge are already frustrated at me. I don't need to give them any reason to hate me more.

"You'll just have to wait and see."

"Awww!" they both whine, but they giggle madly.

"Don't worry, though. You won't be disappointed."

"We believe in you, Uncle Diesel!"

"Yeah!"

"Thanks," I smile. "So, how were your days?"

I'm able to edge out the thoughts of Viridian and the events of the day listening to Padme and Marley describe their days in detail to me. And, of course, I get in on all the gossip of who dyed their hair what color, and what couples broke up, and discussions about cute boys and girls alike in their grade, and I'm glad that my Padme has such a good mother that isn't a homophobic shit like Sharon.

Yes, I'm going to make this Games great.

At this point, I don't really have another choice.

 _ **A/N: I hope you liked this glance at another side of Diesel! I just kind of started writing and ran away with it. Oh, and I hope you liked the brief glance at the Arena! There's much more in store than just that, but there's your preview! From here, each tribute will get one more POV for sure before the Arena.**_

 _ **In other news, I started my partial SYOT for the 42**_ _ **nd**_ _ **Games! If you submit you can get points that you use in this story, because even though a lot of you have a lot of points, inflation is a thing that happens XD Because SOME people have over 400 points! But please, I'd highly appreciate some readers and tributes for that one!**_

 _ **Also, another SYOT that needs tributes is Capitolised Brutality by Alien and Wolfie! So send some tributes their way, it's a story with a lot of good potential!**_

 _ **Another thing: I've decided to stop putting scores on the chapters. I'm still keeping track of them, though, but I won't put them on the chapters until the Games begin.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: How'd you enjoy the refresher to the Capitolites? Which of them would you like to see more of?**_

 _ **Please, if you haven't already, tell me how I'm doing through reviews and check out the poll on my profile! I've barely had time to do anything lately but eventually I'll update the blog again with some info on the tributes!**_

 _ **Thanks for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoy the buildup to the Games!**_


	16. Train Rides

-Kendal, D7M-

Cobra is extremely intimidating. They very rarely smile, their cat eyes look judgmental as they survey us. I would never hate my escort because they're agender, no way. But they do make me uncomfortable because of their attitude.

They're going off at the moment about the co-Head Gamemakers. "Diesel Bundren just thinks he so smart," they're saying, "But he knows nothing! Doesn't he know that he's overstepping his bounds?! When President Snow returns to his position of power, he'll smite the idiot! He thinks that he can put his _sister_ in District _1_?! There are escorts like moi who are working their asses off down here that deserve to be moved up to Districts that actually have a _chance_ -"

"We have a chance," says Briella, glancing at me. I quickly nod in agreement with her.

"We'll see about _that_!" says Cobra. "How many Victors does your District have again?!"

"We have more than most," I say, and am about to start listing them when the door opens and the mentors come in.

Adler Shelton and Heather Pierce give us each a look. Cobra's face contorts with disgust.

"Oh, it's you," they say, sneering at Adler.

Adler makes a face at them. "You're disgusting," he says. I wish they wouldn't argue like this.

"You cannot talk to me like that!" says Cobra.

"You're not exactly hot stuff," says Heather, making a face.

"Who knew the Capitol sweetheart could be so incredibly rude!?" Cobra says.

"Well, I'm Adler, and that's Heather. We're your fucking mentors."

"Don't cuss," says Cobra.

"Fuck you," Adler fires back.

"We should be rewatching the reaping," I tell them, looking at the screen. I really don't want them to fight.

"I would, if this girl over here would shut up."

"I am _not_ a girl!" shrieks Cobra. "You should not call me that!"

"Hell if I care, you're so damn touchy!"

"Adler," I say, crossing my arms. "Respect their pronouns."

"Even the eleven-year-old over there agrees!" Cobra says, and I shake my head.

"Be respectful, please," I say.

"Listen, kid, you'll see that she-"

" _Respect their pronouns!_ " I say, louder and with more force. "You're not being cool or trendy, alright, you're just being an asshole. Respect. Their. Pronouns." I try not to get angry or harsh, but this is making me fire up.

Adler just gives me a smirk. "You'll see, she can't respect anyone."

"Listen to me!" I say, balling my fists. "I don't care what you think about them, alright? Everyone deserves respect for their pronouns and if you don't give it than you're an asshole and I'd rather not be mentored by you at all!"

Briella's eyes widen and she stares at me.

"Kendal, I know that Adler is an ass, but-"

"If he won't respect their pronouns, then he has no room to be talking to me."

"You're making a mistake kid," he says, "And a fierce enemy."

"Maybe if you showed some basic respect to people, it'd be different."

"Fine!" says Adler, "I don't have to mentor you!"

"I will," says Cobra. "I'll take on the little monkey and prove once and for all that I am the most superior mind on this train! After all, I've been at this 2 years before you knew how to do anything!"

"See if I care, then," Adler gets up. "You can see how painfully inadequate you are and come back to me later. I'm gonna go get a drink." He leaves, stomping a bit as he goes off.

Heather and Briella look stunned. My District partner gives me a glance, and I know she thinks I'm crazy for standing up for them like that and throwing my mentor away. I'm not a boy, not fully, and I know that he wouldn't respect that about me, and I don't want his help. I know that makes me crazy, but I don't care.

"Well then," says Cobra. "Glad we got that settled." Briella and Heather exchange a look as the Capitol anthem plays and Saxon Hastings announces the reapings. District 1 is sunny and bright. The girl is reaped and immediately volunteered for by a girl that looks strong. She steps to the stage confidently.

The boy is reaped. "Gravity Stowers!" The cameras go in close on him and my heart skips a beat. _Fuck, I'm so not straight I'm so not straight, I am so incredibly not straight._ He has curly brown hair, and eyes a shade of green that you only see written about in literature. He looks shocked but starts to the stage, glancing back, before someone volunteers for him.

 _Gravity Stowers. Wow. Maybe H should stand for "hot damn." I'll have to remember that. If I get out of the Games alive, I mean._

I don't catch the name of the volunteer before the 2 reapings come on. The girl volunteers, but I observe from the 16 section. Briella's eyebrow raises. She's just as observant as I am, I suppose. Her name is Maggie Blackstone.

Then, something shocking and unheard of happens. The boy from 2 is _reaped_. Vidarr Yggdarval. He's 18, but… He doesn't look particularly bloodthirsty, just… Calm. I wonder what's going to happen there…

Then, District 3. The girl is reaped from the 18 section. Her name is Cyra. By the time she's on the stage, her eyes start to pool with tears. The boy is 15, and he has fresh tears on his face when the cameras find him. He starts up to the stage keeping an expression of stone. Ductor.

District 4 has two volunteers. The girl has wavy black hair pulled into a ponytail, and brown eyes framed with dark lashes. Serafina Anya, her name is. She's only 17, but that's no reason for me to count her out. The boy volunteers, though he doesn't look thrilled to be doing so. His name is Collin, and he's only 17 as well.

District 5 comes after. The girl is 17 and has to be dragged to the stage by the Peacekeepers, gaping in horror. Her name is Cory, and I'll remember her because of her red hair. The boy is 15, and he's incredibly pale, his dark brown eyes full of horror. His name is Hamilton.

I feel bad, horrible, but I can't do anything now but focus on getting back to District 7. I mess with the letter H in my pocket, trying to come up with what it could stand for. H for home. Yeah, I mean, it works, but that's really lame. We'll see.

The girl reaped from 6 is 16, and she makes her way to the stage, breaking down into tears halfway there. I feel so bad for her… Her name is Billie; she tries to control herself as the boy is reaped. The boy is 15, and he keeps on an expression of stone as he makes it to the stage, looking determined.

District 7 is next. I bite my lip as I watch Briella be reaped. After ripping her hand away from where she had been holding another girl's, she keeps her head up high, fists clenched, as she goes up to join Cobra on the stage. Then, I'm reaped. Hearing it again, "Kendal Beck!" brings back all the emotions I felt back to me, as if triggering a nightmarish memory. I manage to look calm enough as I go to the stage, though.

The first thing I notice about the girl from District 8 is her large stomach. The thought that there's a pregnant person in these Games sends a chill down my spine. I hope I don't run into Felicity. The boy looks confident and motivated as he joins the escort on the stage. Nautica, an odd name for someone from District 8, but memorable.

The girl from District 9 starts crying when she's reaped, and as she walks to the stage she has a total breakdown. My heart breaks but I know that if I want to see Agata and my Aunt and parents again, she's going to have to be dead. Karima, she's 15. The boy is older, 17. I notice the lack of younger tributes. For me, it can be both a good and a bad thing. After all, the young ones are sometimes the hardest to kill or see dead, but these older tributes are mature and probably less afraid to kill. His name is Kade.

The girl from District 10 is reaped, but soon someone volunteers for her. The girl looks confident and introduces herself as Rachel Turner. A name that won't be easily forgotten. The boy is reaped and comes out of the 17 section, shaking as he goes to the stage and tripping a bit on the way up. Cobra laughs, but I don't think it's funny. His name is Raoul.

The District 11 Square looks more and more dilapidated every year. The girl comes out of the 18 section, a look of sadness and terror in her eyes that is only familiar to someone from the District who has experienced the fear of being reaped. Martina. The boy takes a while to realize he's been reaped, and seems horrified as he goes to the stage. Edgard.

District 12 is last. The girl is crying as she goes on the stage from the 17 section. She has blonde hair and blue-gray eyes. My heart breaks for her but I know that I'm going to have to get past that if I want to get home. The boy doesn't going until someone pushes him, and makes his way slowly to the stage from the 16 section.

They show a last recap of all the tributes, and I see the fear in so many of their eyes. Even my own.

"So, do you see any who stick out? For alliances?" Cobra asks me. "You're going to need them."

"Not really yet," I say, "I'm just going to have to talk to people."

Briella glances at me, but doesn't say anything.

"Well, you can come with me, Briella," says Heather, getting up.

"You can all call me Riella," she says, with a polite nod to me and Cobra.

"If I catch Adler on the way, I'll try to slap some sense into him."

-Vidarr, D2M-

I stare out the window, watching as we get farther and farther away from home. Away from Ashe. Away from everything I've ever known.

I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that it would come this. That, ultimately, my District wouldn't give me security.

Every action has consequences. I should've known.

I mess with Ashe's scarf wrapped around my neck and only hope she's safe.

Maybe they're taking her, too. For interrogation. Maybe she's on a car in this same train, information being forced out of her.

That thought makes chills crawl down my spine. I look over at the girl who volunteered beside me, who sits across from me on the couch, picking her nails.

I bet she regrets volunteering right about now. Or maybe she's just refusing to look at me because I was reaped. Both are just as likely.

Meanwhile, our escort Vienna is trying to get us to eat. She makes plates for each of us, picking out her favorite items and saying, "Oh, you're just going to love this!" as she goes.

"Here you are, Vidarr."

"You can call me Vi, if you want," I say, putting a hand up. "And… No thanks. I'm not really hungry."

She holds the plate out to Maggie, who shakes her head with a quiet, "No thanks."

Vienna seems disappointed. "Oh, okay. Well, let me know if there's anything I can do for you." She sits back down, examining her bright pink nails and adjusting her dress.

We both agree quietly.

"Well, you're going to love your mentors," she says, trying to lift the mood. So far she doesn't seem too bad, for a Capitolite. "All of the Victors are admirable, of course, but your mentors are truly the cream of the crop!"

District 2 does have a lot of worthy, smart Victors. Surely no matter who my mentor is they can give me some good advice. Right now, I'd do anything to be back with Ashe.

The Victor of the 76th Games comes in first.

"Oh, Nikko!" gushes Vienna, standing up again. The man in question gives her a smile, but his eyes hold a bit of concern.

"I've been instructed to mentor the female tribute," he says. I'm pretty sure the mentors aren't usually instructed. Maggie looks up. "But, I'll be keeping an eye on you as well," he says to me.

"…Do I not get a mentor then?" Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me.

"Of course you do," says Nikko. "She's just… In the bathroom. Thrwoing up."

"Oh… Wow. Must be one hell of a bug going around then," I say, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly with a small laugh. "My wife wasn't feeling so hot this morning either."

Three pairs of eyes stare at me. They're judging me, I think.

"Have you been living under a rock for the past eight months!? Pit is _pregnant_!" Vienna says, crossing her arms. Well, I've kind of been living under a rock, in a sense.

But… Oh yeah.

That makes sense.

Surely they wouldn't have given me the headstrong, loud, feisty 80th Victor for a mentor without her being distracted by other things.

"She'll be fine, though, and she'll be available to you as best as she can," Nikko says. "And…" he bites his lip. "I'll do the best I can for you."

By the look in his eyes tells me that he knows who I am. Or, at least, to some extent. He knows that by helping me he could be putting his life or the life of someone he loves in danger. All for me. I'll never be able to repay him.

"Thank you." That doesn't even begin to sum up how grateful I feel.

"So, tell me a bit about yourselves. Maggie, you go first."

"Right. Well, my name is Maggie. I'm 16. I want to get home to my family. To… My girlfriend, Hannah."

I look up, slightly surprised. Not in a bad way or anything, just surprised. I guess she knows to some extent what I'm going through.

"Yeah? I actually have two Moms, as well as Pit," Nikko says. "So I can understand how that must be for you. How about you?"

"I'm Vidarr, but people usually just call me Vi because it's easier. I have a wife back home, but…" I trail off, avoiding the fact that even if I get home, she might not be there waiting.

"Oh, yeah. I definitely understand your predicament."

Suddenly, the door to compartment slides open and my mentor is standing there. Pit Kensy looks totally different than she does on television. Her choppy brown hair is sticking up everywhere. She's wearing casual, way oversized clothes. She has bags under her eyes, she's pale, she's got a look of pure exhaustion on her face like she's just puked her guts out. Oh wait…

"I'm here," she says.

Nikko gets up and Vienna is immediately by her side.

"Maggie, let's go to another car," says Nikko, and my District partner nods, getting up. When he walks past Pit, they exchange a dark and knowing look, that makes my heart drop to my stomach. When the door closes behind them, Vienna is helping Pit to the couch.

"Pit, dear, is there anything you need? Sit, I'll get it for you," Vienna says. Our escort gets my mentor a glass of water and Pit sends her off looking for more pillows from the other cars.

"They've told me some things about you," says Pit.

"Oh…"

"They think that putting you with me will be a disadvantage to you. Because, y'know." She pats her swollen belly. Yes, she's very pregnant. "However, even though I feel like shit, you've still got a full mentor in me. I'm not going to let anything stop me. I'm going to be the best-" she groans, shifting, "Fuck you, Peregrine- mentor you can get."

"Peregrine…?"

Pit rolls over and groans. "This little fucker," she says, patting her stomach.

"Oh…" I say.

Pit finally settles laying on her side and glances at me. "I'm going to work hard to be there for you. Even if I go into fucking labor in the mentor room I'll still be there to support you. Because fuck Snow if he thinks that I can't be a kickass mentor because I'm pregnant. That just puts a fire under my ass." She glances at me, her brown eyes alight. "So, don't hesitate to ask me questions."

I can't help how awkward I feel. Should I ask if I should do something for her?

Suddenly, she sits up again. "Actually, hold that thought. I gotta go pee."

She heads out the door with one more, "Fuck you Peregrine!"

Vienna comes back just then. She sits on the edge of the couch, tossing the pillows down.

"Don't think I haven't heard things about you," she says. "Having a best friend Head Gamemaker has its perks."

"I just want to get home to my wife and lives a peaceful life," I say quietly. I have to convince her that I'm not a dangerous or violent rebel.

She glances at me, her bright pink lips pulling into a tight frown. "We'll… We'll see what kind of plans are in store for you," she says. Well, at least it doesn't sound hostile.

Pit comes back and Vienna moves off the couch for her. My mentor plops back down on the couch and spends no less than ten minutes rolling around and groaning before she turns to me again.

"This here is the first step to your success. In your position, it's critical that they become so attached to you that those guys in charge cannot possibly _bring_ themselves to harm you. Your only hope lies in getting those people in there behind you. And you have a _lot_ to prove, especially because you're from 2 and you were reaped."

I nod a bit, and Pit continues. "It starts the moment you arrive at the Capitol, and it never ends until you're falling into the slow, dark embrace of death itself. You have to make them- fuck you Peregrine- cry at your story… Impress them. Make them root for you. And… Prove that you can be their loyal lapdog. If you want to see your Ashe again, that's what you have to do."

I nod a bit. Pit is scary, but I trust her. She knows what she's doing.

"Well, what are you waiting for?! Get at that window, and start waving your ass off at people. Little charmer smile, wave! Chop chop!" I quickly get out of my seat and to the window as Pit groans another, "Fuck you Peregrine."

I watch the colors of the Capitol get nearer and feel slightly sick to my stomach as memories resurface.

But, I force on as charming a smile as I can manage and start waving out the window at the cheering crowd.

~.~.

-Cory, D5F-

I sit in the train nervously, the boy I've been reaped beside giving me a look. He's young, only 15. Sure, it's only 2 years younger than me, but there's such a difference between being 15 and being 17. I remember back when I was 15. I hadn't graduated yet, so I was just keeping up in school. Probably worrying more about Victor in the reapings than about myself, at that time.

And now, here we are. This poor boy.

He glances up at me, his dark brown eyes making contact with mine.

He doesn't say a word to me, nor do I to him. I couldn't kill this boy (hell, I don't know if I could kill anyone), but especially not him. Not only is he so young and looks so afraid, but he's also from my home. I think his name is… Hamilton? If I remember correctly. He breaks his gaze of me and pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. His token, I'm sure it's meant to be. He looks at it and sighs quietly.

Hyacinth puts plates in our hands, tossing her high black ponytail over her shoulder and giving us a smile with burgundy lips. "Eat, eat now," she says. "Neither of you will win the Games when you're so thin and desperate-looking."

We get up and she leads us to the food cart. I admit that it smells delicious, and I'm starving. Both of us load our plates high, but neither of us speaks or even makes a gesture.

"Make sure you get vegetables, now," she says, scooping some green and orange stuff up and putting it on our plates. It doesn't smell particularly great, but it smells like it actually tastes like something, which is something I very rarely get.

"You can't have any dessert until you eat them all," she says, nodding decidedly. We sit and eat together.

"Elbows off the table, please, Hamilton," she says, sounding slightly stressed out. She acts like an overbearing mother. Not even my uncles were this strict. Eating the huge piece of chicken on my plate is hard so I put my silverware down and decide to eat with my hands, but Hyacinth gives me a glare. "Use your fork and knive properly now, Cory," she scolds me. I pick the silverware up again and do the best I can with it. Hyacinth massages her temples.

Just then, we hear the doors slide open. The mentors from District 5 walk in. Abner Sheraga, mentor of the 51st Games, and Deborah Sullivan, Victor of the 79th Games.

"Oh, yes," says Hyacinth standing up. "Welcome, Abner and Deborah, welcome!" She stands up. Deborah doesn't look particularly happy to see her, but when Abner snarls and gives the escort a shove, Deborah is there to hold him back from doing anything else.

"Hello Hyacinth," says Deborah, glancing over to where Hamilton and I eat hungrily, as best as we can with silverware. When she turns her back again, Hamilton scrapes some of the long green vegetables from his plate off under the table. I give a silent laugh at the action. I like most of the vegetables, but agree that some of them, like the ones that look like little trees, are less pleasant to eat. Hamilton looks up at me and provides a small smile, and I return it. We had tuned out Hyacinth's talking, but perk up again when we hear her speak about us.

"Here, please, come see your tributes!" Hyacinth walks over. "They're certainly a quiet couple," she sighs. She glances at our plates. "But they do eat their vegetables like true champions. Get some dessert, both of you! Get some fat and muscle on those bones!"

The two of us get up quickly and pick some sweets off the table. I bite into a tart and it actually tastes pretty good. I get a glass and fill it with water, drinking gladly. Here, it comes out of a tap right inside the compartment.

I munch on the tarts and eat dessert.

"Cory, is it?" I look up at hearing Deborah's voice, completely devoid of all emotion. "Come with me."

I nod and follow her as she exits the train. She sits and I sit with her.

"Well, I want to get this started right away. The more advice I can give you, the more advantages you can get. First, let me tell you a bit about the Games in general. A lot of District 5 tributes come in here without any kind of potential. But I can see some in you. You're 17, right?" I nod. "Right. That's older than most. You're going to have a lot of making up to do for your reaction at the reaping, but you can do it. Do you have any strategies in mind?" I shake my head. I have no idea what I want to do. "Well, being from District 5, you have an edge over some other tributes. "The most important thing to do now is to play your story to the Capitol masses. Do you know what I mean when I say story?"

I consider. Yes, I do. Even if I don't speak, I can still tell stories. I can still convey meaningful expression to the crowds. I nod.

"You use your story to get them to get to know you. If they feel like they know you, they'll appreciate you more. Then, in the Games… Go alone. You don't need to be putting your trust and life into harm's way just for an ally. Stay hidden, stay in defense. Don't get in other tributes' ways and they'll all kill each other off. It's often a strategy of middle-District tributes."

I nod a little bit. Deborah gives me a look. "What are your strengths?"

I get up and start running back and forth, going from one side of the car to another.

"You're fast?" Deborah says. I stop to nod. Then, I tap my temple. "You're smart." I nod again and then I flex my biceps, showing off how strong I've gotten from work. Nothing compared to some tributes, but it might just give me an edge over someone who hasn't worked. "You've got some strength."

I smile and nod and sit again.

"So… You don't talk."

I shake my head, taking some water and drinking.

"You'll never talk?"

I shake my head. Never.

"Alright. Besides that, what weaknesses do you have?"

I wrap my arms around myself, conveying that- "You love?" I shake my head and pretend I'm going to fall backwards. "You trust too easily." I nod. Then, I make my expression horrified, curling up on the couch as if I'm having an anxiety attack. The feeling is just too familiar. "You're… You're anxious?" I nod. Then, I make a motion like I'm picking up a sword, making my expression confused. "You don't know about weapons?" I nod a last time.

"Well, Cory, you'll never be able to get past not talking. The Capitol has technology here that allows you to talk-" I quickly shake my head. Deborah sighs a bit but keeps going. "As for trusting, you have to find a way to protect yourself from other tributes. Only you can do that. It might be painful, but you have to." I nod. "And for the anxiety… We have medications here for that, but sometimes they aren't helpful to tributes that have dealt with it for so long because getting assimilated to the meds just to be taken off of them in the Arena… Not good. Again, you'll have to control it as best as you can. As for the weapons, you're going to learn. Make your way there during training. Just in case. You never know. Hopefully if you hide long enough you won't have to use them much." I nod a little bit. Hyacinth walks in, and Deborah looks up.

"Oh, there you are."

I hear muffled shouting from the other room and quickly get up, my heart sinking in concern. _Is Hamilton okay?_ "Oh, they're fine in there," Hyacinth says. When I peek into the room with one eye, I see Hamilton standing in a defensive position.

"Please," he says, begging, his eyes wide, "Please give me more advice!"

"You're going to kill! You're going to be a murderer, get it into your head!"

"How can I avoid it though?!"

"You _can't_!"

"He's getting a little bit out of control," Hyacinth says, causing me to look over. "That poor troubled soul. He's calling himself Lucifer again. Pretty soon things might get violent."

I look over, gasping a bit. I can't help but feel concerned for my District partner.

"I called the Peacekeeper force, they should be here to make sure nothing happens to Hamilton."

There are more footsteps, and more muffled yelling. Deborah looks slightly annoyed at having to put her mentoring on pause, but soon Hyacinth convinces her to let Hamilton join her while they try to calm Abner down. The 15-year-old comes in, his eyes wide as he sits down. He looks horrified.

"Oh, sweetheart, it'll all be okay," Hyacinth says. Hamilton looks horrified. "Things just got an itty bit out of hand."

He starts to breathe heavy and I can see in his eyes that he's going to have a panic attack. I quickly get up and sit by him, coaxing him to look at me. I make a motion like breathing, taking his hand to reassure him. I make a breathing motion, slow and steady, counting to 10 on my fingers. He knows what I'm out to do and breathes with me, in and out. I keep nodding and giving him reassuring smiles and expressions as we breathe together. Slowly, but surely, he starts to calm down.

Eventually, he sits up. "Thanks," he says quietly. I give him a smile in return as a "you're welcome."

"Oh, we're arriving in the Capitol!" Hyacinth says. Hamilton sits up and dries his eyes before the two of us go to look out the window together. It's amazing, colorful, and bright. Hamilton puts up a hand and nervously starts waving at the people out the window. I do the same, putting on a smiling and waving as animatedly as I can.

I try to push out the thought that if I ever want to see my home again, Hamilton will be dead.

-Karima, D9F-

I sit with my District partner, who I see is older than me. I respect him as he's a couple years older than me. I sigh and stare out the window as the colors fly by.

James's red eyes drill into mine, asserting dominance. Kade glances back and forth between us, frowning. I glance at my District partner.

"Well, some tributes we have _here_ ," he says condescendingly. I look up, and a desire fires up in my gut to show the mentors I'm better than him. He's not being nice to us.

"I'm going to fight," says Kade. "You can't stop me. I'm going to fight."

"Of _course_ you are. Open your eyes, boy! You're from District 9!" He scowls, and I shiver a bit. He's certainly scary. "I've been escorting for twelve _years_! I deserve to be so much higher than your crummy District!" James scowls, his nostrils flaring slightly in anger. I hug my bunny closer to me, trying not to feel afraid.

"Sir, please don't lose hope in us," says Kade, giving me a glance. "We can still fight."

"Diesel Bundren is the worst!" says James, scowling. "He plugged in his friends, who have never escorted before in their lives, to the high Districts! I deserve to be up there, I've been escorting for twelve years! I am the best escort these Games have ever seen and I'm stuck in District Nine of all places!"

"Please, stop being so spoiled," says Kade, "Please just listen to us. You could have a Victor in one of us. We're going to fight."

I'm going to do the best I can.

"You know nothing, District swine! That girl has no chance! Look at her!" The blood roars in my ears as I blush when the guys look at me.

"I can do it!" I say. "I can do anything!"

"Be real here, now," says James. "You can't do it. You're young and you're from District 9." I feel a determination to prove him wrong so suddenly. "Besides, you're nothing but skin and bones. The dining cart is there, so if you even want a shot to look less like the rats you are, I suggest you start eating."

"I'd rather be anywhere than here with your bullshit," Kade says, causing my eyes to widen. I quickly get up, escaping to the dining cart before a fight starts. Kade is soon behind me. I take some food and sit down, amazed at how it doesn't even feel like we're moving.

The mentors, Gabriel Yates and Sunnoria Amaranth, come into the car just then. They're two back-to-back Victors, Gabriel 61 and Sunnoria 62. It's rare that something like that happens, but the District ate well two years in a row. I don't remember it, though, I wasn't born at that time. The buzz from winning their Games was long gone by the time I was born. Never in my lifetime has District 9 had a Victor. And now, I have to be a Victor. Or else I'll die. I don't want to die.

I eat my food, enjoying the taste of the food. I push some beans around my plate, refusing to eat them. I tried, they're horrible.

"Hello dearies," says Sunnoria, taking some food before she sits down with us.

"Afternoon," says Gabriel, taking a seat.

"Hello," says Kade.

"Hi," I say quietly.

James enters once again. "Are you ready to be civil?"

Gabriel looks up. "James," he says, not really seeming happy to see him. "Here to splutter more bullshit about the Capitol? I thought I told you to sit back while I give real advice."

James snuffs. "There's a reason I never see you mentors," he says. "I should be up with the higher Districts, and not those two whores!"

"That's enough," Gabriel says. He stands up. "Kade, if you're done eating, come with me." Kade nods and gets up, grabbing some dessert as he goes to another car with his mentor. James goes off the other way.

"Well, it looks like we have this car to yourself," says Sunnoria. "That James… He's so very self-centered and shallow. Don't worry about him, though. I'll be around."

"Thanks," I say quietly.

"So, Karima, right? You're how old?"

"Fifteen."

"Okay, so you're not the oldest, but you still have a shot. What are your biggest strengths?"

"I'm analytical, and I'm careful. And I don't trust too easily."

"Those are very good strengths that will do you a lot of good," she says. "You have a lot of potential, Karima. You have to see it in yourself. Younger tributes have won the Games before." I nod a little bit.

"I will do all that I can for you, okay? You don't have to be afraid to come to me. In the Games, there aren't a lot of people that you can trust, but I'm someone that you can. I promise. Stick with me and together we can do great things. Alright?"

I nod a little bit with a small smile. "Alright. Thank you."

I get up to go over and get some dessert from the table. I put lots of chocolates and tarts and cakes on my plate, anything that looks good, which is most of it. I smile as I pile up my plate and sit back down across from my mentor.

She gives me a reassuring smile, her gray eyes gentle. I give a small smile back to her. I can prove I'm better than James, prove I'm better than anyone else in the Games with me. I can do it.

"What do you have to get home to?"

"I have parents, and my Gram, and my best friend Ferris…" I hold the bunny closer to me, sighing quietly.

"Yeah? Well, the Games might be a little rough, but think of them, alright? They can help you through. Is that going to be your token?" she glances at my bunny.

"Yeah," I say quietly. "My Gram made it for me."

"It's nice. That'll be good to remind you of home."

I nod a little bit.

"I have confidence in you, Karima."

Gabriel looks back in. "We're arriving in the Capitol."

"Oh, yes! Come with me." Sunnoria takes me back out to another car, where Kade is already standing at the window.

"Look at it, Karima," he says, amazed. I stand beside him, amazed.

"Wave to your adoring fans, now," says Sunnoria, and Gabriel gives her a glance.

Kade puts a hand up first and starts to wave.

I do the same. I can do this. I can be cuter than him. I put on a big beam and start to wave, smiling at the crowd. They wave their hands at me, and I hop a little bit as I greet them, waving. They cheer for me, whistle, smiling as they applaud…

I… I can do this.

I could actually win the Hunger Games.

 _ **A/N: Hi! Hope you liked this chapter! Just so you know I'm not paying as close attention to word counts for these ones like I was for the reapings, so some tributes' POVs will be longer than others, it's all in what I feel like writing. And even if your tribute's POV doesn't have a lot of words, they'll probably be featured in other POVs so I feel like it'll even out.**_

 _ **That being said, alliances and Bloodbaths have officially been locked in! Unless I get an idea from someone I like better for alliances, they're pretty settled in stone.**_

 _ **That being said, I'd love for you guys to tell me which tributes you want to see interacting, even if it's just a conversation. Also, don't worry, all 24 tributes will get one more POV before the Games start, but I put them together very strategically so they're not in District order. Don't worry though, all the tributes will get one.**_

 _ **Also: Do you like to make characters for SYOTs and actually see them written with past reapings? Do you want to make a character that will be loved dearly, drawn, and headcanoned with often? Do you want to have a character whose lineage is tied tightly into my canon? If you answered yes to any of these questions, you should submit to my new partial SYOT, Masque: The 42**_ _ **nd**_ _ **Hunger Games! Please consider it, and please considering submitting a District partner, because those are what I really need to get the story started. I promise this is the last I'll mention it. Probably.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Out of the four escorts in this chapter (Cobra, Vienna, Hyacinth, James), which one was your favorite and why? Sorry I know these questions are starting to get kinda lame, I'll try to think of better ones in the next chapters XD**_

 _ **(Pls submit to 42, if you submit and read that one, you can get a bunch of points that you can use for your tribute on this story! I'm begging you! I promise it'll be really good!)**_


	17. Chariots I

_-Leo, D12M-_

"Stay still, boy!" I can't help fidget nervously. I'm sorry I'm not used to being naked with Capitolites buzzing around me like bees. My lips pull into a scowl, but even if I wanted to tell them off, they wouldn't understand a word I'm saying.

"I was just watching a Games with a boy from 12 that knew how to sign," says a girl with a bee hive of golden hair on her head, giving me a poke and measuring the length around my waist with a tape measure. "Maybe they're related! He's poor like you are!"

I sigh. Not everyone that signs should be related. Not everyone that is mute knows each other. I sigh, but don't contradict them. Effie told us we shouldn't snip at our prep teams. If only Haymitch were sober enough for three seconds to give us some _real_ advice.

"Yes, he could talk and hear and all that but he signed, said it was for a younger brother that he learned it, isn't that just adorable?!"

"Oh, you're meaning the 41st Games! Oh, yes, I remember that! Didn't they show that Games in full on Wednesday?"

"Oh, they did. I spent that day with my girlfriends, and we drank together and watched. It was just _wonderful_!"

I wish they'd shut their mouths for two seconds and tell me it's okay to put the robe back on. The room is cold, and I do everything in my power to keep from shivering.

"Yes, that's an intense one. Shame what happened to the Victor of that one, though."

"Yes, what a shame. Oh, yes, the boy. We have a lot of work to do on him before he's even going to be half good enough for Portia to see him!"

They let me put the robe back on, and start to work. They cut my hair properly and cut my nails. They use all these horrible-smelling chemicals and many different towels and sponges to rid my skin and nails of the dirt and grime that's years old. They make me sit in this bath of stinky chemicals as the dirt is pulled off of me. They scrub at my fingernails, going under and around. They're very skillful, probably very used to making Seam kids pretty.

They lean me back and wash my hair, massaging my scalp and shaking some of the dirt out of it. Against my tan skin, the scars I'd been covering with ash and dirt are now painfully evident.

I don't know how long I'm there, being painfully scrubbed, but just when I think the skin of my chest and shoulders will be red and raw if I sit there any longer, they get me out and rinse me off. They wrap me up in towels, exchanging impressed grins. "Bring in Portia."

A middle-aged woman enters the room. She has light brown skin and crimped, bright blonde hair, with dark lips and huge eyelashes. "Welcome to the Capitol, Leo. My name is Portia. I'll be your stylist."

I shake her hand, nodding a bit.

"If I recall, you're mute, correct?"

I nod a bit.

"Don't worry," she says. "The Capitol has a new prototype that should be able to take your thoughts and express them into words! You should be getting it before your chariot rides begin." The thought makes my heart flutter. _I could actually be able to communicate with others?_ The thought is comforting. Portia continues. "But, for now, it's my turn. I want you to succeed, Leo, and the best way to succeed is by looking your very best. And you're certainly not the worst-looking tribute to be in this room. We can work with you."

I nod a bit. I can't really tell her no.

"If you remember back, think 10 years ago, my first year of styling… My colleague Cinna had the genius idea to set the tributes from District 12 alight with fake fire. Unfortunately, a scared baker boy and a 12-year-old girl with tears in her eyes didn't exactly convey the purpose." I nod. "From there, District 12's tried setting fire to our tributes for 10 years, hoping that just the perfect fiery pair to really make the idea important."

I nod again. I wish I could say something, dammit, but I just have to nod.

"Well, this year we are going to try something slightly different." I blink as she sits me down. "Just relax and trust us." They bring out more smelly liquids and pastes, this time working on my hair. It's a long and horribly boring process of them yelling at me to stop fidgeting. I sign some not nice sentiments, and none of my prep team realizes it. They get to work, Portia talking about this and that with the others occasionally adding to the conversation. I just close my eyes, hoping maybe I can get some sleep before the reaping.

I think about Dereck and Albus and Rebecca. And Zack. All the people I have to get home to. So I deal with whatever the hell stinky stuff they're putting into my hair. They chatter and chat as I keep my eyes closed and hope that it's over soon. They get me up and take me to the dressing room, where they put me in a dark black jumpsuit with red, orange and yellow sparkles on it.

"These will reflect off the lights that are on you nicely," she says, "Subtle touches." She gets out a palette of colors.

"Er…"

"Oh, you and your masculinity," she sighs. "We're going to do make-up on you. Stay still and close your eyes." I sigh, but grudgingly do as she says. I feel the tickles of powder being applied to my eyelids, and the press of a pen against them. I feel it on my cheeks, accentuating my features..

Finally, she steps back, pleased with her work. "Take a look!"

They take me to a mirror. My eyes are framed in red, orange, and yellow, my lips are darker, my face looks more filled and less hollow. My lips are darker, my lids are dark black… And my hair. I realize with horror that it's black, not just dark brown anymore but real black, and my bangs are streaked with yellow and red and orange. I look nothing like Leo, nothing like me.

"I know what you must be thinking," she says. "But this is how they'll like you. Don't worry, dear, the color will come out within a few days. Hopefully it will stay for interviews, though, that'll look slick with the suit you're going to wear.

I nod a bit, turning back to her. "Would you like to try eye injection or contacts?"

I look over, confused. _Huh?_

"To change your eye color. Again, temporary. Should go back to normal before you're in the Arena."

I shake my head, symbolling that I don't want to do anything to the color of my eyes.

"Do the contacts." They hold my eyes open and press the contacts in, causing them to burn and itch. It feels heavy to blink and stings. When I look into the mirror, my eyes are a dark gray, almost black, speckled with red.

" _Now_ they'll love you."

I turn to Portia, trying not to look as hopeless as I feel.

"A lot of the other stylists will probably be doing this to their tributes, you won't be alone. In fact, your District partner is going to match you, but I believe they're keeping her blonde. Now, I'm done with you, they'll take you to get the device implanted."

I'm taken away to another room and laid down on a chair. I feel a sharp prick of pain in my head, and hear voices explaining what's going on. The procedure takes at least half an hour, but my perception of time is totally screwed up.

When things stop being blurry, the Capitolites hunched over me have wide eyes. "Imagine a keyboard," the woman in charge says, looking at me with bright magenta eyes. I close my eyes and suddenly see an almost holographic blue keyboard floating around in my mind.

"Now imagine the letters, think them thoroughly, exactly what you want to say." I close my eyes to focus, causing pain from the contacts.

"These contacts itch," says the voice, causing the team of Capitolites to squeal happily and applaud.

"Amazing!" squeals one of them.

"A breakthrough! Dr. Townsend is a genius!"

My eyes widen, and I quickly imagine typing more letters, seeing them on a screen in front of me. "I can talk. I can really talk." Whatever they injected into my head even seems to be picking up on my emotions and speaks with them. I imagine my fingers pressing on the keys, making letters appear on the screen. "I can really talk. This is amazing, thank you."

"Oh, wonderful. And right on schedule, Effie will be please! Come, now, you have to go straight to your chariot!"

They usher me out of the room and I see Wren in a bodysuit quiet similar to mine, but this time with a cape of the same material. Her hair is braided, the tip of it black with the red and oranges climbing up the braid. Her eyes are decorated with fiery make-up and dark eyeliner like mine. Hers are a darker blue, with specks of bright yellow.

"Hi Leo," she says. "You look spunky."

I close my eyes to focus on bringing up the letters of the words, "Hi Wren."

She looks shocked. "You talked! That's amazing!"

I think up the letters, making them appear as I put them in. "Capitol technology."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" she looks so happy she almost gives me a hug, but decides against it. She pats our horse's nose, who puffs out air calmly.

"Oh, my tributes!" Effie gushes, her pink lips shining, "This is your big moment, so keep your heads up high!" she smiles at us and nods. "Haymitch, any advice for your tributes?"

Haymitch shrugs. "I'd give them some if only I could find the gin," he says. I roll my eyes, and Effie flicks him.

We see the other tributes climbing up into their chariots. "Good luck, you two! Enjoy it! This is all for you after all."

We both nod. I start up the chariot first, and give Wren a hand to help her up, to which she thanks me.

The District 11 tributes are dressed up in bright green and yellow and red jumpsuits, with little apple hats on their heads. The top of the boy's head is colored red, and the girl's cornrows are colored red, yellow, and green, pulled up into a ponytail. She scowls, and when she turns around to get a look at us the make-up on her face is even worse. Her eyes, once brown, are now bright green with flecks of yellow. Her lips are bright red, and the shadow all around her eyes is layers of vibrant reds, yellows, and greens. The suit she wears isn't supposed to make her resemble an apple, it's much too skintight for that. The boy just looks plain miserable, his eyes bright yellow speckled with red. I feel for him.

Suddenly, the 11 chariot lurches into action, and the tributes turn around. Our horses turn around and start at a trot after them. We're engulfed into the crowd. The Capitolites scream and cheer, a lot of them waving their hands and arms at us. I glance over at Wren, who puts up a hand and starts to wave at the crowd, smiling cutely. They cheer for her like crazy. I put my head up, using what I've gt.

I give a charming, confident smile to show them not to count me out. At the action, they all begin to applaud, whistling and cheering. Some of them even shout, "Leo!" I keep the confident smile, and it keeps growing. The chariots stop, and the fill-in for President Snow reads on his behalf before the horses turn around and go back the way they came.

After the rides, we're left alone to mingle. I see Diesel Bundren and Santana Villanueva amongst the tributes. Eventually I find my way to the pair from 5.

"I'm Hamilton!" the boy is saying, "And this is Cory. Cory is mute."

The girl waves, her naturally red hair certainly vibrant with streaks of yellow.

My eyes widen. _Another mute tribute?!_ She might understand me… I tap her shoulder and gesture the other way, wanting to talk to her in private. She follows me.

I pull up the typewriter, putting in the letters. "My name is Leo. I'm from District 12. I'm mute as well."

She looks at me interestedly.

"The Capitol gave me this device. Do you have one?"

She shakes her head. She makes a motion like talking, and then closes her lips. I can barely believe what I see.

"You… You choose to be mute?" It even comes out as a question. She nods at me.

Suddenly, I feel angry. She was given the gift of a voice, and she chooses not to use it! I thought I had found someone like me, someone who always wanted to speak but could never. Instead this girl has a voice and instead chooses not to use it!? Why would she do that?! Why would she give up her form of communication!? Doesn't she know how blessed she is?! Doesn't she know how people would've _died_ to have a voice of their own to speak with!? I ball my fists, going into a scowl. She seems to sink away from me. The keyboard turns red as I start to type.

"I would have died to have a voice to use," it says, using an angry tone. "This is the first time I've ever been listened to, the first I've ever been able to communicate! You have a voice and you choose to neglect it!? Don't you know that your voice is a gift?!" I glare at her, feeling hurt and upset. She frowns and starts to shake her head, but I turn around. I know I used to hate it when people did it to me, but I can't take this anymore. I can't believe she would stop talking. Why would she do that? "Sorry I thought you actually understood the sadness and pain that comes with being ignored and not being able to do anything about it. But I guess not. Sorry." I turn around and walk off.

I don't need allies. I see Wren talking to a group of girls and go straight for the elevator to go back to my room, still fuming mad and upset and hurt.

 _-Cyra Hensley, D3F-_

My hair's not blonde anymore. Not even close.

I can't look away from the mirror. They gave me an injection beside my eyes that turned them silver in color, not the dull blue they were. I can't look away from them in the mirror.

They put a black and silver tiara on my head. Over the past five or so years, chariot rides have become less about the Districts and more about decorating the tributes like Capitolites to get people to like us. The District does factor into the color palette, but I have a feeling someday it won't matter who's from where, they'll be fully appealing to Capitolites. I'm almost symbolic, the tributes losing the identity of the District and being forced to look like Capitolites instead.

I can't believe they dyed my hair black. Black with silver at the tips. Silver that matches the color of my eyes.

They dress me in a boxy silver outfit, like a robot. They do dark make-up on me, and when they're done, I don't look like Cyra anymore. I look like someone different, like someone I would see on the television and wrinkle my nose at. But no, when I wrinkle my nose, so does the girl in the mirror. My prep team runs around, proud of themselves, no doubt.

I was horrified that my Head Stylist was going to be a male. I fought against them when they told me to strip the robe off. It brought back fears, painful memories of something that was almost a disaster, but changed my life.

But no, I can't think about that now. I can't afford to. I have to try and overcome my fears and memories. I can't let them control me, not now. Not when I have to get back to Lennon, and Tess, and Isaac and Rachelle, and my little nephew Greg.

Anyways, I was somewhat relieved when my Head Stylist came in and was a female. Pretty young, too. Her name is Elentari. She wears bangle bracelets, and has a pixie appearance, with blue wavy hair, blues of all colors, deep blue eyes, blue lips, pale skin… She's nice and energetic, but still a Capitolite.

"Come, Cyra," she says, obviously pleased with her work. "We have to find your District partner and get you ready for your chariot rides!

Her nails are long and light blue as she guides me along. She wears a lot of make-up, and she was gentle as she did mine. She kept talking about how cute I am, how adorable, _"aw girl this will look so good on you, are you sure you're aren't from District 1?!"_ She's nice and well-intentioned, but a Capitolite all the same. Which is unsettling.

"I'm going to be your biggest fan!" Elentari says, "You can call me Tari by the way. Maybe I should ask for an autograph… Oh, but we have plenty of time for that! Oh, Lizzy!" she picks up the pace and I stumble in the high heels I have to wear trying to keep up.

She and Elizabeth, our escort, give each other hugs and kisses in typical Capitolite fashion. Elizabeth wears an outrageous purple dress with butterflies on it, matching her dark purple hair and bringing out her dark blue eyes. Every time she looks at us, I can't help but notice the gemstones beside her eyes, seeming to stare at me like she has four eyes, not two.

"You look wonderful dear," says Elizabeth, smiling kindly at me. I know she means well. She keeps asking me questions and tries to learn our stories…. Which is nice of her, but… She doesn't even seem to understand how brutal the Games are.

"Thanks," I say quietly.

"Cyra!" I turn to see my mentor, Kitty Simmons. She gives me a look that I completely understand, that expresses all the disgust with the Capitol and the outfit they've put me in. At least it's not all sexy like most people are forced to be dressed. Which is a relief. "You look… Like a Capitolite."

I nod a bit, glancing at the tips of hair, black and silver, not blonde, black and silver. They assured me it would wash out and all turn back to normal by the time we get to the Arena, but it still feels so… Surreal. Fake. I can't really describe the feeling to you in words.

"Now, this is your chance to show off your personality. This is your second first impression. If that makes sense."

I nod a bit.

"It's all about personality. Make them like you. If they like you, the Gamemakers will be on your side as well. If you get into a bind, they'll help you. Get them behind you. Get them to like you. It's all about personality."

I nod. Seems easy enough.

"And having breasts like that helps."

I immediately look away, and I think Kitty realizes she hit a soft spot. The 68th Victor adds quickly, "You don't have to, though, I was just suggesting…"

"It's fine," I say quietly.

"Oh, Beetee, Ductor!" Elizabeth goes to where my District partner is with his mentor. I look around the room. The District 4 tributes are dressed like merpeople, the boy completely shirtless and the girl with nothing but seashells. The Five tributes are colored bright yellow, both of them have new yellow highlights. The Six tributes are silver like myself. The girl's curly hair is cut shorter, it appears, in an attempt to tame it, and died dark brown, with streaks of red and silver. The boy's hair appears to be mostly the same color, but when he turns around, observing the tributes, I see that his bangs are black and his eyes are dark red, almost blood-colored. Their outfits are closer to the uniforms of the factory workers. For District 7, the girl's hair starts out brown and gradually fades into a bright green at the tips. The boy's hair is streaked with a darker green. Both outfits resemble trees. I'm looking for the 8 tributes when I'm being pushed forward gently by Kitty.

"Time to get on the chariot," she says. I turn around to see the chariot there, amazed at the size and strength of the horses.

I notice Ductor climbing up. His dark hair is streaked with silver, and when he glances at me as I'm climbing up, his eyes are synthetic as well. His, instead of the silver that mine are, are a more subtle, darker gray color that sparkles like the night sky when looked at just the right angle.

"Cyra, come now." I follow him up, and look around, amazed at being so high. When I turn around, the Four tributes aren't on their chariot yet, and I lock eyes with the boy from District Five. His eyes are an eerie color of yellow, that look like they'd illuminate the room if the lights went off. I quickly turn around after catching his eye.

"Hamilton," Ductor says, noticing from watching the event. "He's 15, like I am."

This whole time he's barely said a word. Ductor's extremely shy, I've noticed. Quiet and reserved, kind of like I am. I nod a little bit. So far, we understand each other better than I was hoping to understand my District partner. After all, if I don't understand them, it'd be much easier for them to be dead. But no. Even though Ductor and I haven't talked very much, we seem to have a connection starting to form. I've been debating on whether or not to ask him about allying, but I'm still not sure. After all, he's only 15, and he's deaf. I still don't know if he has anything to offer… And I have to get home.

The District 1 chariot starts to move, and soon our chariot lurches forward into action. I take a deep breath, my heart pounding with the nerves. This is the chance for me to first get them to like me.

The last thing I want to do to smile, but I know that it's a way to get sponsors. I force a smile across my face and put up a hand.

I notice despairingly that Ductor has a hand up and waving, an easy, relaxed smile on his face. I wish I could be as natural as him.

I try to be convincing, smiling and waving, and people do buy it. I have a few roses thrown at me, and I hear my name amongst all the others in the crowd. However, I'm relieved when we're on our way back after the President-but-not-really-the-President's speech. Of _course_ President Snow will be back soon. Come on, he's _ancient_.

When we get off the chariot again, Ductor stays by me. "Wanna stick together?" he asks. His eyes have a look in them like he's pleading me more than just a casual question.

"Sure," I say with a kind smile. I know I shouldn't get close to him, but I can't help it.

Ductor and I stick together.

"Hey!" we look up and see the tributes from District 5 approaching, both of them seeming nervous.

"Oh, hi," I say smiling. Ductor waves. I know he's insecure because of having a lisp like he does.

"I'm Hamilton. This is Cory. She's mute."

Cory gives us an animated wave. I smile and say, "Hi Cory. I'm Cyra, and this is Ductor."

"Nice to meet you." Hamilton seems slightly nervous to be talking to people. I feel slightly wary of strangers. Ductor is shy to talk around people. Cory is mute. We're just a very interesting group of tributes.

"You too," I say.

"We're both 15," says Ductor, obviously trying to get out of his personal box to make some friends.

"Oh, yeah, we are."

"You're 17, right Cory?" she nods, and points to me, looking questioning. Her bright yellow eyes still convey all her emotions so well.

"I'm 18." She nods, looking upset because it would've been my last reaping. I sigh sadly.

I see Diesel Bundren and Santana Villanueva talking to the tributes from District 1 and 4, and just hope they don't come over here. I'm glad Ductor is with me, at least he's somewhat familiar… But still… Something about Diesel Bundren is especially unsettling.

I stick close to Ductor, noticing the girl from 8, her huge belly covered with many assorted colors of fabric. My stomach falls. I remember when Rachelle was pregnant, not too long ago… How much Greg means to me… And now there's a girl here who has two lives on the line…

Ductor glances at her, as well, looking uncomfortable and shifting side to side. "Well, want to meet later?"

"Yeah, let's chat later," says Ductor, and I nod quickly. Diesel catches the boy from District 6, where he's standing with the girl from District 9. Her once black hair is now blonde. Her eyes are the color of wheat. She wears an outfit that resembles grain symbolically.

We're approached next by the girl from 10 and the boy from 9. Rachel's once black hair is now a copper brown, and her eyes are now a deep, dark brown. She seems to have freckles, I'm not sure if they're synthetic or if they were always there. She's wearing a black cowgirl hat. The boy from Nine's dark bangs are now a neutral beige color, his eyes are now an orange to match. He looks extremely uncomfortable.

"Hey," he says. "I'm Kade."

"Rachel," says the girl from 10.

"Hi. I'm Cyra and this is Ductor. We're both from 3."

"Oh, nice to meet you," says Rachel. Kade glances back at his District partner, where she fidgets with her fingers nervously talking to the girls from 4 and 12.

"You too," I say.

The District 7 boy joins the group from where he had been talking to Rachel's District partner. His dark wavy hair is now dark brown, his bangs copper brown. He wears a cowboy hat as well. His eyes are made a rusty color. Now Raoul talks to Edgard from 11 and Amari from 6.

"Hey," the boy says shyly. "I'm Kendal. District 7."

We all introduce ourselves again.

"Nice to meet you," I say. The two from 9 and 10 leave us with Kendal. I feel eyes on me and turn around and see Hamilton glancing at us. He looks away when I look back.

"This is all outrageous, isn't it?"

The boy from 7's now moss-green eyes look troubled as he nods. "I'm totally not me. But this is what I have to do. We both nod before noticing a lot of the tributes retiring.

"Oh, I suppose we should be getting back to our rooms. But maybe we'll talk later," I say.

Kendal nods a bit. "Yeah, maybe."

We walk to the elevator together, and in front of us, Iridesce from District 1 is talking with the boy from Ditsrict 8. They lower their voices when we approach, but nothing good can be coming from this. The boy from 8 has blue and orange in his hair, and when he looks up, his eyes are mismatched with light blue and deep orange. Iridesce looks truly like a Capitolite, her blonde hair dyed magenta, matching the deep magenta of her eyes. He seems to be trying to convince her to let him into the Careers… Kendal gets in the elevator with them and bids us good night, and we're left alone.

"Well, what did you think?" I ask Ductor as we wait. I ask again with him looking at me so he can read my lips better.

"I think Hamilton was interested," he says, as the elevator opens up again. He looks at me to talk.

"I think so to." We go into the elevator. We go to the third floor in silence. I hesitate and then tap his shoulder to get his attention.

"So… Are we allied then?" I ask, biting my lip. "Do you want to ally with me? And maybe someone else we find along the way?"

"Oh…" He gives me a smile. "Sure."

We separate and go to our respective rooms. I go to the bathroom and lock the door. When I see myself in the mirror, I jump, my heart skipping a beat, before I realize it's just me. I sigh in relief, getting into the shower.

I don't know what I've gotten myself into, allying with someone younger than me and with a disability. I know I'm going to end up feeling responsible for him. But Ductor and I get each other, and we make a good team. I don't know where this will go, but… I'm determined to make it home.

No matter what it takes.

 _ **A/N: Hi! I was going to do four POVs for chariots, but this happened. The POVs were so long, I decided to split it into two parts. So next chapter we'll hear from Callum from District 1 and Serafina Anya from District 4! I hope that part of the chapter comes out soon!**_

 _ **Oh my goodness those chariot outfits XD I hope you guys liked them, I'm so bad at coming up with chariot outfits they're probably so lame sorry lol.**_

 _ **Alright, so I'll say this: my college decision is pretty much certain, which is a big relief. No more visits and auditions sucking up my time. Which is a huge relief. I'm going on a choir trip to New York next week, so hopefully I can update again before then. I'm still keeping track of scores, so no worries!**_

 _ **Oh, that reminds me! I was rereading parts of this to get my inspiration back, and I reread a lot of the reviews and I just want to thank you all again for your reviews. You guys are nothing but encouraging and sweet, and it honestly helps me to want to write more because I know you guys are following the story and enjoying it. So yeah, I was really touched by all your kind words, so thank you so much! You guys don't know how much it means to me. Thanks again!**_

 _ **So something that I did with my partial SYOT 36 is I let people ask the tributes questions over Tumblr and answered them in character. So, in an effort to get to know the tributes better I think I'll do the same thing with 84. If you send me questions for the characters over Tumblr (check my profile), I'll answer them in character ON the Silhouettes blog. Hopefully soon I'll be putting the tributes on there. But for now there's that.**_

 _ **Hm, okay… Do I have anything else to say? I don't think so. If your character wasn't seen a lot in this chapter, don't worry, they'll show up more later! I think that's it, okay. So hopefully I get the next chapter out soon for you all!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: What did you think of the alliances forming/shown in the chapter? Is there anything you want to see more of (besides specific characters)?**_


	18. Chariots II

_**A/N: Hello everyone. I'm putting this A/N at the beginning because 1) I want to get it over with and 2) I want EVERYONE to read it. I meant to put this on the last chapter, but I forgot.**_

 _ **So I thought that this would go without saying, but apparently not. But I don't tolerate disrespect. Now, I encourage my readers to be critical of the tributes and tell me who they do and don't like, because obviously I don't want to keep writing all this stuff with someone nobody likes. However, in being critical, (and again, I thought this was OBVIOUS), I also want my readers to have some respect for each other. I want you to be honest if you liked or didn't like a character, but if you are saying something derogatory or rude about the AUTHOR of those characters, that's taking it too far. I'm saying this because recently I got a guest review from some anonymous coward that didn't want people to know it was them totally disrespectful towards one of the authors. And I'm just telling you now that I will NOT tolerate that. The review in question was deleted as soon as I saw it. Please, just have some decency. Criticism of the tributes is encouraged, but personal jabs at authors? No no no. I didn't think I had to say it, but don't be an asshat to other authors, alright? I don't want any drama to spark and I don't want anyone to be hurt, this is just a fucking story alright? Alright. Sorry for seeming mean but I really don't want anyone to get hurt and I don't tolerate disrespect. -Celtic**_

-Callum, D1M-

Iridesce is _pissed_.

I mean, Iridesce was pissed before, she was pissed when Gravity was reaped and an Academy dropout of people volunteered for him. So maybe I was pushing my boundary a little bit. But I have to do this so that I can be independent. Grandma and Grandpa, as much as it hurts to say, aren't going to live forever.

She talked the whole ride up about how pitiful the Career alliance is. She wasn't too thrilled when the 2 boy was _reaped_. And, unlike Gravity, I think it was pretty obvious that he wasn't the scheduled volunteer. So yeah, Iridesce was kinda pissed. And Mary Catherine was also pretty pissed. I have a lot of proving to do, which is how it's always been I suppose. But now there's even more pressure on me.

My mentor is one of the most intimidating Victors I've ever seen, Gloss Constable. He won his Games with his brute strength, and since then has kept up the image. The Capitolites love him. I want to be like him. Everybody loves him, I bet he's never spent a day of his life feeling lonely.

My Head Stylist, Acrisius, is a short, slightly pudgy man with a navy comb-over and skin dyed green. His eyes are orange, and today his lips are matching. He looks like an alien, almost, a creature almost human but not quite.

"So, you said you are not apart of the Academy?" he asks, scratching his chin.

"That's right," I say quietly as they pluck my eyebrows.

"And you volunteered-"

"Yes, to gain financial stability, I told you."

"No need to be snippy," he says, with a disapproving sigh. "Don't worry about it. When we're done with you they won't be able to get enough of you. You are average at best from the District 1 standard, but you are material we can work with. With a little bit of improvement, they'll adore you."

I nod a little bit, and they sit me down and start to work with my hair.

"The outer District tributes will only dye part of it, but I want you to make a statement so we're going to do the whole thing."

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. _They're going to dye my hair?! A vibrant color!? What if I have to camouflage somehow!?_

"It will wash out by the time your Games begins," Acrisius says, "Don't worry." He says it like it's stupid to be concerned for my safety in the Arena. He's so incredibly frustrating to me. But, I do the smart thing and keep my mouth shut. "They're going to be crazy about you," he muses as the room fills with a horrible stench. I almost gag, but stop myself.

They put it all through my hair, rub it into my scalp and I almost want to throw up. It's a process that seems to take forever, but the prep team makes conversation the whole time.

"That girl from 1, she's killer. Like, yaaaaass bitch yaaaasss. Slay me."

"Totally," another agrees, causing me to feel dejected and slightly anxious.

"I'm right here," I remind them.

"Oh, but of course you're better," they quickly add. Acrisius stays quiet throughout, in thought. One of them starts singing a song that's all the rage now in the Capitol, and the others join in. Even Acrisius hums under his breath to that one.

I just sigh and sit still, trying to be polite like Gloss told me. Take it all with a smile, he said. And I do just that. When they're done with my hair, they blow-dry it and drape a velvet cape over my shoulders. They press a needle too close to my eyes for comfort. Then, just like that, they're done. They take me to a mirror and when I look into it I can't say anything, I'm too frozen with shock.

My hair isn't blonde, not even close. It's… Purple. Royal purple, in fact. Bright royal purple. So bright it almost gives me a headache to see my own reflection in the mirror. There's a headache on my head. I'm so bright it almost hurts. And my eyes. They're purple. Just like my hair. It physically hurts me to look at myself.

"You're ready," they say, smiling and exchanging looks.

They guide me back out to the main room. It smells faintly of horses, their breathing steady and gentle. Mary Catherine is patting the nose of a white horse, cooing at it, half watching the horse and half staring across the way at the escort from District 2. Then, she notices us and comes over, her heels clicking against the hard floor.

"Oh, Callum, there you are! You look stunning, of course, wonderful job by your prep team." She smiles at me, her eyes reassuring. "Iridesce should be out in a second."

At the words, I look up at the clacking of heels to see her there. Her once blonde hair is now magenta, and her eyes match. She's dressed royally like I am, her head held high and confident, which adds to the look. When the District 2 tributes come out, she gives them a glare. The girl's hair, once brown, is now a much darker brown streaked with gold, and the boy's hair is certainly more golden than white-blond now. The girl's eyes are truly and completely gold, and they're almost piercing when they lock with mine. The boy from her District… It appears they haven't changed his at all. They're still just as dark as they were before. They're both dressed up in gladiator armor, and now that they don't seem nervous anymore, they look absolutely stunning. They could possibly be stiff competition. Nikko Hollenbeck-Young gives the girl advice. Pit Kensy is picking a fight with a horse. The escort runs off to get her heating pads.

The girl gives me a subtle nod and I turn back around to where Iridesce is mounting the chariot. The girl's hair seems to have made a dramatic change, black with silver on the tips. The boy's hair is still black but with silver highlights. She looks dramatically uncomfortable.

"Callum! Come on, or else the horses will go without you!"

"Oh, right, sorry." I climb on the chariot next to Iridesce just as the horse starts moving, causing me to wobble. I'm pretty okay, until I see the people. Then, my stomach drops with fear and I just feel terrified. I realize how many people there are, how many eyes are on me. I start to shake, uncontrollably, but at seeing how easily Iridesce gets the crowd cheering for her, I put up a hand and smile and wave as best as I can. I keep the smile pasted on, trying to make it look genuine. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Iridesce blowing kisses at the crowd, waving, showing love. I realize that I'm being upstaged, _again_. I could make it convincing, if only I could stop shaking.

The chariots come to a halt in front of the Presidential mansion, but, for the first time in close to 40 years, President Snow isn't the one talking. It's Joltee Rutilus, one of his top advisors who often makes appearances on TV.

"President Snow offers his deepest apologies that he cannot make an appearance tonight. As we all know, our fearless leader is currently hospitalized for a minor condition, and he fully intends to be back where he belongs for the 85th Hunger Games."

The crowd applauds wildly, and Joltee raises a hand to silence them, just as effective as the real president himself doing the action. "But, he wants everyone to know how much he cares, and that the celebration of the 84th annual Hunger Games should not be put on pause for his sake alone. So, we begin our festivities with a tribute to our very own President Coriolanus Snow. Cheers." He raises a glass up high, and everyone else applauds and cheers wildly, the crowd shouting exclamations such as "We love Snow! We love Snow!" and "Get better soon! Get better soon!" Joltee claps with them, the big screen showing a smile across his golden lips that hides malice behind it.

"So, tributes," he spreads out his arms to all of us. "We welcome you to this place. To our home. We welcome you to the Capitol. We hope that you enjoy the time you spend here as you prepare to make your Districts proud with your participation. And, before 23 of you make the ultimate sacrifice in the values of District love, courage, and honor. We welcome you to this celebration of you and what you have accomplished, and what you will accomplish. And we wish you well. May the odds be ever in your favor."

The crowd applauds, and I wait and listen desperately for at least one "Callum!" in the crowd. I can't hear any on my side. Maybe on Iridesce's… I can only hope.

Our horses start to move again, and take us back to the main room in good time. Then, everyone dismounts, and the tributes have some time for talking.

"Well Callum, you _did_ volunteer, so I suppose that you can work your way into our Career alliance, but only if you prove to have what it takes." I swallow hard and nod.

"Let's go find the group from District 2," she says. By the time we reach the Two chariot, the boy is already gone.

"District 1," says the girl, putting her dark and golden braid back over her shoulder. "Maggie Blackstone."

"Iridesce," she says, shaking her hand.

"Callum," I say, doing the same.

"You're only 16," Iridesce observes, crossing her arms.

"Don't count me out because of my age," she warns.

"Alright," Iridesce says, her now magenta eyebrows raising.

Maggie balls her hands into fists. "I trained. I can fight."

"I believe you," says Iridesce. "And I want you. Let's go talk to the two from Four."

"My District partner didn't seem interested in joining the Careers. I think it's dumb of him."

"He'd have to be really fucking impressive if he wanted to join us anyways," Iridesce says certainly. I nod. It's best to let her take the lead, I think.

"Let's go to the Four tributes," I suggest. Iridesce nods, and we start walking past the three tributes to the 4 chariot. We catch the 4 girl after having talked to a couple of outer District boys. When we get to the Four chariot, we look behind us and notice that Maggie's gone missing, lost within the chaos of tributes. We find her talking to Santana Villanueva, one of the co-Head Gamemakers. We keep going.

"Hello," says Iridesce to the Four boy. He looks up at us, his now sea green hair matching his now bright blue eyes.

"Hm? Oh, hi."

"Collin, right? I'm Iridesce. This is Callum. We're from-"

"District 1. I know."

"Well, we're gathering fellow Careers, so-"

"Oh. I don't think I'm going to go with the Careers," he says, suddenly becoming extremely awkward. Iridesce exchanges a deadly look with me before looking back at him. Up close, I notice his tan skin is decorated with black tribal tattoos.

"Oh." Her voice is coated with annoyance.

"Maybe Serafina Anya would want to, but…" She seems to be making friends fine on her own. The girl comes back over, shuffling in her mermaid outfit. Her figure is highlighted by the tattoos they put on her, and we get a good view of her breasts, only covered by seashells. I try my very best not to stare.

"Careers, correct?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, but I think I'm looking other places for allies." She glances back at some of the other girls she was talking with.

We're approached by Diesel Bundren just then.

"Ah, here we have our mighty Careers," he says, coming over and putting a hand on Iridesce's shoulder. "My, don't you all look lovely?"

I feel like the embodiment of a headache. We all shift awkwardly, and he gives us all a seemingly well-intentioned smile.

"Good to see you," says Serafina Anya, breaking the ice. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to come down and get to know my tributes better, of course!" He pats me on the back. "We want to play to your strengths after all!"

Iridesce gives me a look, that implies: _and weaknesses._

"So, we have… Iridesce, Callum, Collin, Serafina Anya, yes?"

We all nod and he beams. "Wonderful. So, Iridesce, Callum, has my baby sister been treating you well?"

"Yes, she's been very good," I offer, trying not to quiver in my boots.

"Oh, Mary Catherine is a love," says Iridesce. She seems to know how to charm. "She's done everything to make me comfortable, I couldn't have been blessed with a better escort."

"Well, that's good to hear! And the mentors, eh? I must admit that I myself was not immune to the wave of adoration for that Gloss Constable when it came 'round. Granted, I was young, quite young, but still. And that Niesha Varlett, she surely is something, isn't she? Kind of fell out of the limelight quickly, but she has to have a reason for mentoring two years in a row after she won."

"Yes, the mentors have been helpful," Iridesce says. "They've really given me helpful guidance."

"Yeah, they're really nice," I add, planning out every word as carefully as I can. I can't control the nerves I feel, this is so important that I make a good impression…

"And you from Four, how have you enjoyed Hydra? He's certainly a character, isn't he?"

"He seems to have pretty high expectations for us," says Serafina Anya, "But he's certainly been a help."

Collin nods in agreement, his eyes glazing over to look at the other tributes, maybe looking for an escape.

"And your mentors? Who's there for you, Donovan and Annie, correct?"

"He's been very… Honest," says Collin. That seems to be true about the 77th Victor.

"Annie's doing her very best," says Serafina Anya with a small smile.

"She's a fighter, of course. Well, good to see then, good to see."

Santana Villanueva comes over just then, holding a clipboard. "There you are," she says to Diesel, before turning to us. "Sorry for any trouble he's caused."

"Oh, he hasn't been trouble at all," says Iridesce. She really knows how to talk smoothly, and something in me is insanely jealous of that ability.

"Well, I'm Santana Villanueva. And that's Diesel Bundren. And you are the Careers?"

"Er, no," Serafina Anya says. "I was going to find more options."

"Me too," mutters Collin awkwardly.

Iridesce scowls. Diesel raises an eyebrow, his bright ice blue eyes boring into me.

"Oh, interesting. So, what about the Two tributes then? Maggie and Vidarr?"

"Maggie is with us," says Iridesce. "And I intend to scout out other options."

"Interesting, very interesting." Santana writes something down, Diesel looks interested.

"Well then, why did you all volunteer then? I'm… Particularly interested…" He glances at me and my heart drops to my stomach nervously.

"I volunteered to get honor for my District and family, and for myself," says Iridesce. "I came to win."

"Mhm."

"I wasn't supposed to volunteer," says Serafina Anya, "But the girl in the one spot dropped out and I was up. So I volunteered for my family and my District."

"Mhm," says Diesel, Santana taking notes.

"I was chosen. I'm doing it to honor my father who died in a boating accident, and for my little brother Tel."

"Very good," Diesel muses, Santana flipping her page. His eyes meet mine. "And you, Callum?"

"Er…" He knows, dammit, he _knows_. They all know. I thought they wouldn't, but they all know. They know I shouldn't be here, they know Gravity should've been here instead. They all know. I start to panic a bit, and take a shaking breath.

"I r-refused to be alone," I say. "I ended up with k-kind of a shitty lot, and I needed this to prove myself and gain independence. I need it, I'm g-gonna get it."

The others all glance at me and I really wish I wasn't panicking right now. I swallow hard. "Excuse me."

I turn around and quickly retreat back to my room.

I thought I could pretend I belonged here, I thought I could pretend my volunteering was planned. I thought people would think I was supposed to be here, not Gravity, but nobody was fooled. I'm nothing. I'm not a star, or a winner, I'm nothing, I'm just Callum.

I'm nothing, and by the end of this week, I have to be everything if I even want to have a chance.

I go to my room and shower, and I'm thankful when I can finally climb into bed and cover up.

I take deep breaths, staring at the ceiling in the dark. When I close my eyes, I see flashbacks of the reaping, of Gravity's green eyes boring into me, of Iridesce looking at me with disgust, my purple eyes, magenta eyes, judgmental blue eyes of Diesel…

I have to prove that I can be something.

And now, my life is on the line.

~.~.

-Serafina Anya, D4F-

I haven't been able to connect with my District partner.

Collin is quiet and introverted, he very rarely speaks unless he has to. He hasn't taken to my positivity, he seems pretty disconnected. I suppose it's not good for me to try and get him to let me in, as various Games in the past have demonstrated. It's probably better that I don't connect with him. It'll be much easier to hear his cannon that way.

Hyrda is extremely helpful and polite, and he treats us well. However, he has kind of been pushing his Victor mindset on us. He was pretty disappointed when we both revealed that we weren't intending on traveling with the Careers. I guess he thought this year the four tributes would be taking over with the absence of the good Two tributes. I still don't trust them, though, and I never wanted to be a part of the Careers. Collin apparently feels the same way. He says he doesn't want such a big alliance, which I understand as well. I mean, he can't even connect with one person, let alone five.

The train ride is slightly awkward. I had a chat with Annie, my mentor. She won the 70th Games, but was never the same after watching her District partner be beheaded. She doesn't mentor if she can't help it, but she has to be thrown into the mix every once in a while. She spoke quietly, timidly, she refused to meet my eyes. I never truly wanted to volunteer, and now I feel even more afraid.

I just have to get home to my friends and family at this point. I wish I hadn't felt the pressure to volunteer. I wish I wouldn't have volunteered. I wish I could've been above the peer pressure instead of having a moment of weakness like I did.

Annie will never be the same because of her Games. And neither will I.

We're escorted down to be fawned over by our prep teams. They talk the entire time as they change everything about me. They don't leave my eyes or hair or eyebrows the same. The cover my face in make-up. They put tattoos on my stomach and do everything they can to make my breasts appear symmetrical (newsflash for you, buddy: boobs aren't symmetrical on _anyone_ , okay!?) short of surgery. They do nothing to give me any kind of coverage up top, talking about how beautiful and strong my body is. They dress me in a mermaid tail that binds my legs together so I can't walk, I have to shuffle and hop. When I look in the mirror, I don't see Serafina Anya. But it's going to take someone a lot stronger than the Serafina Anya from back home to get out of the Games alive.

My prep team escorts me out to meet the rest of the crew from District 4. Collin looks extremely uncomfortable in his mermaid outfit. Instead of brown, his hair is dark blue and streaked with green. He doesn't look a thing like himself.

"Hey Collin," I say, trying to raise his spirits, even if only a little. "Some crazy outfits, huh?"

"Yeah," he sighs, crossing his arms. "They say that this is what it takes to get people to like me."

"It's not just you," I say. "We're all here to look a little ridiculous and make them smile," I say optimistically.

"We have to lose our identities to become like them," he mutters, staring at the ground.

I sigh a bit. "You're impossible. I think this is a night where we should try to forget our situation and have fun for once. Relax."

"I'm not relaxing until I'm home again and Tel is in my arms."

Collin has to use the railing to mount the chariot, and I copy him. He doesn't look at me, instead looking at the silver District 3 tributes in front of us. The doors open and I hear the cheering of the crowd. District 1's chariot takes off out the door, and the others follow. Soon, ours takes off into action after the Three chariot.

The crowd is screaming and cheering as we go. I put a smile on my lips, deciding to use what I've got to make the crowd cheer. I beam at the crowd and wave, making eye contact with people in the front and hear cheers of my name. I smile brighter at knowing they really love me, that I'm making a good impression on the people, they really like me, I have a chance.

Next to me, Collin is not waving, not smiling. He's stoic and tough-looking, which draws just as strong of a reaction from the crowd. I catch a rose that was thrown at me and kiss it before holding it up, causing everyone to cheer and yell for me. It sends a wave of positive energy through me, causing me to smile bigger and wave bigger, smiling.

The chariots return to the main room. I pat the horse's nose in thanks before Collin and I separate to talk to other tributes. We decided early on to avoid allying together.

I approach the tributes from District 6 first. The girl is quick to leave and retire back to her chariot, but the boy sticks around. He's young, 15, but looked confident.

"Hey."

He looks up. "Hi there. My, don't we have a pretty lady here?" He smiles at me and I smile back, laughing a bit. He's a funny, cute kid.

"Thanks," I say. "You're Amari, right?"

"That's right. And you are… Er…"

"Serafina Anya. Nice to meet you. I'm from District-"

"Four. Of course. You little mermaid princess."

I laugh. He's surely a charmer.

Another tribute joins us just then. It's the boy from District 10. "Hey," he says.

"Hey," I say casually. "What's your name? I'm Serafina Anya, and that's Amari."

"I'm Raoul," he says. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," we both say.

"These outfits sure are ridiculous," I say, laughing a bit. The attention of both boys are drawn to… Not my face. They both nod, though.

"All these horrible District stereotypes," sighs Raoul, glancing up despairingly at the cowboy hat he has to wear.

"Isn't that the truth?" I sigh, glancing at the mermaid tail that I can barely walk in.

"But that's okay. Anything for sponsors, right?" Amari asks, sighing.

"Yeah, true."

There's this kind of awkward silence between us, and I don't think I'll be talking to either of these guys again.

"I have to go, but maybe we'll run into each other later."

"Maybe…" they both say. I nod and leave them.

Before I can move anymore, I'm picked up by the tributes from District 1 and brought to a conversation with the two Careers and Collin. I have to tell them and the co-Head Gamemakers that I'm not going to join the Careers. Luckily, Collin is in the same boat (ha) as I am, which somehow makes it easier because I'm not the only one. The conversation is long and awkward, and I know that Iridesce isn't happy that we volunteered and aren't begging on our knees to join the Careers. The conversation drags on until Callum is put on the spot, and surprisingly, the boy from District 1 panics. He forces out his reason for volunteering and then quickly stomps away, excusing himself.

"Well… Golly, I hope he's alright," says Diesel. He doesn't sound too incredibly genuine.

"Thank you for your time," says Santana, giving Diesel a nod before she walks away, and he follows. I say an awkward goodbye to the others and quickly go to the closest group of tributes, the girls from 9 and 12.

"Hey!" I say, causing them to look up.

"Hi," they say.

"I'm Wren, this is Karima."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Serafina Anya from District 4."

"Nice to meet you too," says Karima, clutching her bunny. She notices her District partner with the girl from 10 and hops off to meet them, pulling a stuffed bunny closer to her as she goes.

"You volunteered, didn't you?" asks Wren.

"I did, but I'm not going with the Careers." I look at her fiery braid, dyed red and orange and black.

"Oh, I see. You're 17 though, right?"

"Yes, that's right." I can't say I remember much about him.

"I'm 17 as well," I say.

"Oh, cool. I need an ally that can look out for me."

"Let's meet up in training," I say. "Maybe we'll end up hitting it off after all."

She smiles a bit. "Yeah. Okay. Sounds good to me." I return her smile. The two of us shake hands before we're caught by Diesel and Santana.

"Well well well, hello there ladies. Serafina Anya, a delight to see you again. Wren, correct? You look lovely. How's the search for allies going?"

"Not committing to anything yet," I say, giving him a bright smile. Diesel's eyes light up as he laughs and pats my shoulder.

"Me neither, my girl. I don't commit either."

Santana rolls her eyes. I thought they were engaged… But I guess that's none of my business.

"Well, either way, you'll have to pick one somewhere down the road." He twists the engagement ring around his finger. "I know you'll figure it out. Wren?"

"I'm still not sure," she says politely.

"Well, my friend, you've got time to figure it out. But not too much." He laughs and pats Wren's back. I laugh with him. Wren looks much more upset, not hiding her fear nearly as well.

"We'll see you later then," says Diesel, "Good luck, ladies!" He and Santana leave. Wren makes a face when they leave, causing me to laugh.

"I'll catch you later, Wren." She nods politely.

I turn around and go. More of the tributes are retiring as the time for communication runs out. I go up to my room, washing the ink off my skin.

I need more time to figure this out before the Games come… More time, time, time…

Time that I don't have.

 _ **A/N: Sorry if this chapter was eh at all, I did it while watching Parks and Rec so I was kinda distracted XD I hope you enjoyed it anyways, though.**_

 _ **Alright, so some people have been asking questions of the Silhouettes tributes, so keep it up! That's fun and helps me to get to know the characters more.**_

 _ **Thanks for being encouraging, as always, hope you like this chapter.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Which of the other tributes would you like to see chatting with the Head Gamemakers?**_

 _ **As always, let me know what you thought, and if there's anything more you want to see. Thanks for reading!**_


	19. Training Day 1, Part I

_-Iridesce, D1F-_

The Career alliance this year is kind of… Garbage.

I'm the only one that should really rightfully be here- an Academy flunkie, a 16-year-old, and a boy that was reaped!? I feel personally offended.

The 4 tributes aren't so bad, or so I thought, as they're both 17-year-old volunteers, but they both declined the alliance. Who _does_ that!? Who do they think they _are_!?

But, on the outside, I remain calm. As always.

However, if the flunkie and the reaped boy think they have an in because of their Districts, they're mistaken. I'll put a knife through Callum's head to earn my victory. I would've done it to Gravity, and I'll do it to him too.

Maggie isn't so bad. She _is_ only 16, but she volunteered. She may have a good reason for it. We'll see.

I can't say I haven't been searching for some other options, though. If some of the outer District tributes have the balls and the skills, maybe I'll consider them.

I look to 7 and 10 first, the Districts that take the hardest work. Neither of the boys this year looks like much, but the girls could be fighters. The 10 girl volunteered, after all. It'd be stupid of me to not give her a look.

Training is my chance to survey the tributes and form my alliance how I want it.

I feel Nautica from Eight's eyes on me as all 24 tributes stand in a line.

I talked to him last night at chariots. He's one of the definite Career hopefuls. He was talking a big game last night, but he reeked of lies. It'll be interesting to see how much of his bragging is bluffed, and therefore how much he'll be bullshitting.

Callum has fear in his eyes, apprehension more than anything. Maggie looks confident. I can't read the look on Vidarr's face as well, but he looks determined and headstrong.

The little girl from District 9 makes eye contact with me and quickly looks away, holding her little bunny plush close to her.

This is what a Career should be. If the tributes from Four are stupid enough to turn down the opportunity to be the predators, they'll be hunted by the prey in the end. Simple as that.

The Capitolite in charge of training gives the rules. Not a lot of tributes listen anymore, because it's the stuff that's really common sense.

When Diesel speaks up, though, from the top balcony where the Head Gamemakers are watching, his voice booms across the whole Training Center. "Give us a good show, tributes! Make your Districts proud, and leave us gobstruck by your talents!"

The Captiolites up above all affirm the statement, and I hear the clanking of glasses. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Well, I intend to impress them alright.

They release us to train, and I meet up with Maggie before anything.

"So… What's your District partner's deal?" I ask her, glancing over to where Vidarr sits at a survival station. "Who was supposed to volunteer?"

"Justus Fiore," she says, picking up a knife. "He didn't show. For some crazy reason."

"That's… Odd." I start to stretch to warm up for a day of hard work. Stretching is important before a day of training so that no muscles are sore after putting in a day of work. Maggie follows my lead wordlessly.

"Were you… Chosen?" I need to figure out if she's really a possible threat. She's young for a Career at 16, but District 2's put out crazy and horribly vicious and bloodthirsty 16-year-olds in the past. Is she one of those, or just a scared little girl?

She seems to be a scared little girl, but I refuse to let my guard down. Sometimes scared little girls are just psychopaths in disguise.

I finish stretching and go to the knife station. Knives aren't my best, but I figure that starting out simple is the best way to go. I'll have plenty of time to scare the other tributes shitless as we go on. Maggie doesn't seem thrilled to start here, but it's a good warm-up as I work my way to the throwing spears.

The girl from 2 reminds me of my best friend Diamante, a little bit. Following me around to boost her score.

"So your District partner is out?" He's probably lost and scared shitless by now.

Maggie nods. "What about yours?"

I turn to find him, spotting him easily because of his full purple hair. "If he can prove he's Career material, I suppose he's in. He's an Academy dropout that had the balls to volunteer for the selected volunteer when he was reaped."

"Oh yeah, that scary guy." He's not easily forgettable.

I throw a few knives, not straining myself too much to start with. Maggie follows my lead.

"Who else, then?" she asks, her face flushing slightly from warming up.

"I have my eye on a few, but especially the boy from Eight. He reeks of ulterior motives, but we can play dirty too. Use him to do all the ugly work and then dispose of him."

Maggie nods, but something in her synthetically gold eyes seems like she doesn't want to play dirty. I don't think playing dirty is desirable or good, but sometimes, it's necessary. This is one of those times.

I glance around at the variously-colored tributes. "I'm also considering the girls from 7 or 10," I say. "They seem like fighters. Hard workers."

Maggie nods as I throw more knives, and she copies my lead.

So maybe my Career alliance isn't conventional. But I'm very tricky. I can make it work.

I hear a loud snorty laugh that carries across the whole center, reminding all of us once again that there are Capitolites constantly watching.

Diesel is leaning over the balcony slightly with his top half, Santana is watching calmly and talking with a man that has orange hair.

I look away from them, focusing on my training. That's what will give me a high score.

"Let's split up," I tell Maggie. "Go to your weapon of choice and make them piss their pants for a bit." I glance at the throwing spears. "Then, go around, maybe do a survival station or two to survey the tributes, watch closely, find the ones that might fit. We'll meet up again after lunch to make our decisions."

"Sounds good," she says.

I hear a whimper and look up. The girl from 9 is staring as Callum straightens up from throwing a morning-star on the outer rim of a target. Maggie and I exchange a look. Maybe there's some kind of hope for this alliance after all…

I head to the spears, picking one up and aiming at the target.

We'll show them.

I throw it, and everyone in the surrounding area jumps as it hits its target. I smirk and pick up another, repeating the action and making them all jump again. I put on a good show for the trainers, Gamemakers, and especially the other tributes. It's what I've been training to do for years and years.

I take a look around after a while, trying to figure out alliances. Not a lot of tributes have talked yet. I glance at the 4 tributes. Serafina is lifting, which doesn't look to be her forte. Collin… I almost don't find him until I notice him at a survival station of all places. I guess these aren't the kind of people I'd want in my alliance anyways.

I look around for outer District tributes that stick out. The boy from 6 is at a weapon station, trying to learn how to use a sword. The boy from 8 is showing off with knives, next to the boy from 2. He's holding his own pretty well… Maybe he wasn't bullshitting as much as I thought.

Maggie is fencing with a trainer, and quite impressively. She disarms the grown man in five seconds, causing some of the other tributes to stare. I smile approvingly, turning back to the spears. The boy from 9 is beside me, listening to the instructor when she explains how to throw. I keep on training, ignoring them and trying to make Kade jump. He doesn't budge.

"So, Kade, correct?" He looks over, slightly surprised I'm talking to him.

"Yeah." He focuses, closing an eye to get a better aim.

"You're from 9?"

"Mhm." He's trying to ignore me. I'm not letting him.

"You're determined, huh?"

"Mhm." He releases the spear, but misses the target.

"Aw, too bad." I smile at him. "Better luck next time."

"I'm going to get this."

"Uh huh." To prove my point I take another spear and throw a perfect bull's eye.

"Lemme know when you do, love," I say, putting the spears back on a rack and going to the weapons stations to find other tributes and talk to them.

I go over to the knife station, observing the boy from 2, who seems as if he hasn't done this in a while. Next to him, Nautica's getting better and better.

"How do you know so much about knife-throwing?" I ask him, curious. Surely you can't have trained in District 8.

"I have methods," he says, turning around and smirking at me. It's hard to take him seriously when his hair is bright orange and blue.

"I'm impressed," I say.

"Yeah?"

"I thought you were making it up. But maybe you have some potential after all. So… Impress me."

"I can make you want me," he says, and I realize he's… Flirting with me. A usual Career strategy, but not usual for outer-District tributes toward Careers. I wonder if I could let him believe he's charmed me. As I said, I know that it's wrong, but here, playing dirty is necessary.

I walk away from him, giving him a last glance back and a cute smile before I watch Maggie fence. She seems to know exactly what she's doing. Some of the other tributes watch her.

I glance over to where the girl from 6 shoots an arrow that falls lamely to the ground. Her face contorts in frustration, causing me to laugh a bit. The boy from 9 has moved on from spears to swords, and that's where I go next. While I'm there I see the boy from District 10 listening and awkwardly trying to use the sword.

I feel eyes on me and when I turn, I notice his District partner watching us, watching him. She snickers as he awkwardly flails his arms, trying to control the sword. I turn back around.

"Raoul, correct?"

He looks up. "Y-You're from 1."

"Mhm. Trying to figure out how to use that, huh? Not too easy."

"Guess not." I don't think he wants to talk to me. I guess I can see why. I watch him for a while, and Kade, before I go to the station where the girl from 7 is using a hatchet, glancing at the axes station, which is currently empty.

"Hey," I say. She looks up.

"Hello."

"Briella?"

"That's me. I'm more commonly called Riella, though."

"Gotcha. I'm Iridesce."

"I've seen you around."

"I've taken notice of you as well," I say, causing her to raise an eyebrow at me.

"District 7 tributes usually know your stuff."

"Mhm."

"We need some more Carerers. We're low this year. I'm just scouting for tributes that might have what it takes."

"I don't know if I want to have a big alliance. But I'll consider your offer."

"Please do. I'll be around later."

"Sure." She goes back to her hatchet training and I give her a look. She's definitely strong. Probably knowledgeable. Definite possibility.

They call us for lunch, and I follow the others, quickly finding Maggie and sticking by her side. We get in the back of the line for food, Callum behind us, though he seems nervous.

"How have you been doing?" I ask Maggie.

"Not too bad," she says. "A lot of the tributes are performing how I'd expect. The boy from 11 stayed at scythes most of the morning, though, which was a bit surprising. The girl from 6 came around, but gave up quickly at fencing."

"I sense giving up quickly might be common for her."

The District 8 girl wails in front of us. "I can't even hold onto a damn plate!" she sobs. Cory and Kade quickly help her get another plate and carry it to her table for her while an Avox cleans up the mess on the floor. She's so helpless, it makes me laugh.

We get to the buffet and pile up our plates, sitting. Callum sits with us, but he looks extremely hesitant.

"I didn't get to talk to Rachel yet," Maggie says. "I expected her to come around, but she's spent the morning at survival."

"I talked to Riella, she might be interested."

"Nautica's been training pretty well. He promised to show me something amazing tomorrow, though I can't imagine what that might be."

"He's a flirter, then."

"That's right."

We eat in silence for a while. I glance over at Callum, and notice him try to open his mouth a couple times, probably to ask if he's going to be with us or searching elsewhere.

I look at Maggie. She shrugs a bit. I nod.

"You're lucky the 4 tributes aren't interested," I tell my District partner. "You're in."

He breathes a breath of relief.

"You still have proving to do, but you're in."

He nods, looking around the room.

"Three and Five."

"Huh?"

He gestures over to where both tributes from 3 eat lunch with the 5 boy. "They've spent a lot of time together."

"How about the 12 tributes?" I ask. "I haven't seen much of them this morning."

"The boy started out throwing before he went to weights."

"Throwing _knives_? Was he any good?"

"As good as a newbie can be. Looks like he can lift though."

"Interesting. How about 11?"

"Girl spent most of her time with plants. Maybe too afraid to handle weapons, maybe just focusing on survival. It's only Day 1." Callum's really been observant. More-so than me and Maggie. He seems glad to have something going for him.

"The boy?" I wonder exactly _how_ observant he's been.

"Spent a lot of time with scythes. I wonder if he's used them at home before."

"The girl from 10 spent most of her day at survival. Which is weird because she seems kind of Career-like to me, I don't know why she wouldn't jump at the chance to learn a weapon."

"Kade from 9 is trying, but not successful. How about that boy from 7?" I ask.

"I heard him talking to the girl from 9. Apparently he lost his mentor."

"He _what_?" Callum can't be serious.

"I'm just relaying what I think I heard. Apparently he mouthed off to Adler and Adler left."

"What will he do?"

"His escort's going to take up the job."

"Wow. Good luck to him." He doesn't stand a chance without a proper mentor. Why would you have Adler Shelton's help and give it up?

"So who are you thinking?" Maggie asks.

"Well, we should keep watching Nautica, Riella, and Rachel. And see who else from there. After all, we still have two days of training left to go."

"Right." The other two nod.

"In the meantime, we should also watch out for the formation of other alliances. We need to know how many will band together, and what type of people they are. We need to know our competition."

They both nod. They release us from lunch ad we go our separate ways to find some other tributes to size up.

~.~.

 _-Collin, D4M-_

It was probably not a great idea for me to deny the Careers. They didn't really seem happy with that.

I sit at the knot-tying section. I could probably make some really good hooks, after all, it's what I grew up doing, but… I can't brave that station. It might bring back too many traumatic memories. I'm already closing off, and the last thing I need is to shut down when I'm about to go into the Games.

I didn't want to ally with Serafina Anya, and I made it clear. I think she was pretty disappointed, or upset, or pissed off. She wanted me to be as open with her as she was with me, and I wasn't having it. She's too upbeat for me anyways. I don't think I could manage spending all my time in the Arena with Serafina Anya. I would probably just get really fucking annoyed with her constant prying by day two and kill her. And I really would rather not kill my District partner, if I can avoid it.

So really, it's for the better that I'm not going to ally with Serafina Anya. She can find someone who's not annoyed by her constantly saying "You can trust me! Why don't you tell me all about your deep, dark personal life?" and I can find someone that realizes that we're in the fucking _Hunger Games_ and to survive one of us is going to die, and therefore be very curt with each other before peacefully parting ways.

My mentor, Donovan Benoit, won the 77th Games. He's very straightforward, and made sure I knew what was at stake. It was a harsh process, long talks on the train. He forced me to the point where I was almost screaming at him, prying into my personal life to try and figure out where my heart and loyalty lie. I wasn't about to let him in. We were about ready to slug each other before Hydra, the escort, jumped in and stopped it. We both have wills of steel, and that wasn't going to budge for either one of us.

Now, we're on a very curt basis. Which is fine by me. He gave me some training suggestions, but I don't want to show off. I stay at the knot-tying station for a while, tying and untying, trying for more complicated knots as I go. When I get bored there, I change to the fire-building station. My father showed me how to start fire before, just in case I were to ever get stranded, but I don't remember anything about it. I wish my memories of my father were clearer, but each year they fade more and more.

I start fires, and see the 6 girl struggling to start hers.

"Uh, need help there?" I ask. She doesn't look up.

I tap her shoulder, and she turns and scowls at me. "No," she says forcefully.

I put my hands up in surrender. "Alright then."

When I turn around next, I see the tributes from Three together with the boy from Five. Hamilton's tongue sticks out slightly as he focuses on trying to make flames. Cyra motivates him, and Ductor silently cheers on. I go back to focusing on my own fire.

At the camouflage station, I talk to the girl from 10. Not like I would hide with camouflage, but I should know in case I end up alone and need to sleep or get injured and have to hide instead of taking action.

I work on my leg, she has her arm up on the table.

"Collin, right? District 4?"

"Mhm." I focus on spreading the mud across my arm, trying to put some texture in it to make it look like the ground, or the bark of a tree.

"I'm Rachel. District 10."

"You volunteered."

"Yeah, I did. There's a reason to my madness, hun."

"Mhm."

"Not the talking type, eh?"

I shrug. "More inclined to focus on survival."

"I see. Not allies, then?"

"Still not sure."

"Huh." She glances at my arm before painting her foot. "Well, I'm looking around for a couple tributes to look out for, so if you find anyone, why dontcha send 'em my way?"

"I'll keep you in mind," I say, but mostly to get her off my back. I swirl around some pond water to add to the cake of colors already on my arm.

I work at the other survival stations until they call us for lunch.

Right in front of me, the crazy girl from Eight drops her plate and starts to wail. Some of the other tributes help her. I just get my lunch and take a seat in the back, looking around at the other tributes.

Both One tributes sit with the girl from 2, glancing around the room. The Three tributes and Hamilton talk quietly as they eat. The pair from 7 eats together, though more for the sake of having someone familiar than anything. Serafina Anya looks like she wants to come sit with me, but eventually sinks into a seat a distance away. The girl from 10 wanders around before choosing a seat near the boy from 9. For the most part, though, everyone is silent.

I eat at a normal pace, not too incredibly anxious to get back to lunch.

Once I successfully make flames, I move to the station for butchering animals. This is an important skill to have, because it'll give you the most possible edible meat with the least number of kills. I watch as the instructor works on a fake rodent, and passes out some other fake rodents for us to try.

I copy the instructor, but don't feel like I have a good handle on this.

I watch the boy from 2, Vidarr, who looks familiar with using knives. He watches the instructor's movements and copies them. I watch him skin the animal and pull back the pelt.

I try to do the same, but not as successfully.

"You're not bad at that," I say, trying to keep it simple and polite.

"Hm?" he looks up, his dark eyes seemingly endless. "Oh. Thanks." He seems awkward. "You're… Not going with the Careers?" he asks.

I shake my head. "You?"

"No," he says, glancing at the fake rodent in his hands, stripping it of the muscles and tendons.

"I'm not looking for any big show alliance," I say.

"Me neither."

We both give each other a side-glance.

"I want to survive for a while and separate peacefully."

"Yeah. That sounds fine to me."

"Let's split up then. Cover survival stations as best as we can, save what we really know for privates. Chat when we can, but not waste training time for it. We don't need to know everything about each other."

I nod. "Yeah."

We glance at the fake rodents in our hands. His is perfectly butchered, mine is… Just disgusting.

"I can handle the hunting."

"Yeah, sounds good." I put the fake rodent down, take a towel to wipe the fake blood off of my hands and move stations.

 _ **A/N: Hey, I'm back! I had lots of inspiration for this story, and I was all ready to write, and then I got hit with a monster cold and that wasn't happening. I feel better now so I decided to finish the chapter, hope that you didn't find it lame or anything. I hope you liked the insight into some of the tributes this chapter. This story's coming along, slowly but surely. Still working on the blog and still taking questions for the tributes. Hope you like how this is coming along.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Predictions for what the Career pack will end up looking like? Are there any other interactions between tributes you want to see?**_

 _ **Until next time!**_


	20. Training Day 1, Part II

_-Ductor, D3M-_

The training center is full of tributes. I can very distantly hear noise, as I can sometimes when it's very loud. I still do have some hearing left, so I know that people are making noise, but I can't make out what the noise is.

I stick close to Cyra as the lady gives the rules.

I'm quite glad that I have an ally now. I don't know why my District partner chose me, though. Probably because she has a soft spot for those who don't have as much hope like me. I just can't give up now, I have too much riding on it. But still, I will need an ally that can hear and is willing to help me out. She is a good choice, 18 and intelligent, not horribly starving, pretty. I'm sure the Capitolites are going crazy about her.

I stand nervously as the tributes appear to be dismissed. Cyra nudges me gently, causing me to look up. She gestures at the girl from District 6, where she stomps through a crowd of people on her way to start training.

"I think she's deaf too," Cyra says, speaking slower so I can read her lips.

I nod a bit, surprise that they would reap not one but two deaf tributes. Oh wait, the reapings are random. Totally random. Right.

Cyra points up to where the Gamemakers sit. They're talking and laughing, except for the two co-Heads. They both watch intently, occasionally making a comment to one another. I snap out of watching them, knowing that I'm not going to get points by just standing like an idiot and watching them.

We're approached by Hamilton from District 5, who puts up a hand in greeting. Cyra waves to him, and she says, "Hey!"

The other two immediately get to talking, so fast I can barely follow them. I catch the word "Allies" and "partner" and something that looks a lot like "blue sea dogs pineapple" but I'm pretty sure that's not what they're actually saying. I feel shut out and clear my throat a little bit, hoping that it doesn't sound incredibly obnoxious and rude. I try not to use my vocal chords, but I have no idea how to even control that anymore.

They both turn to look at me.

"Sorry!" Cyra says. I can tell she does genuinely feel bad from the look in her eyes. I still can't stop looking at my District partner with the new dark hair with silver tips. I think it's really ridiculous and I definitely got off lucky with silver highlights as opposed to a dramatic change like that.

"It's okay," I say. I feel like I'm shouting. "Am I shouting? Sometimes I talk loudly because I can't hear myself speaking."

"You're speaking a little loud," says Cyra, glancing around. When I look around I notice some of the other tributes giving us weird looks, and immediately blush. I hate to be the center of attention. I remember when I would've been the one to give a weird look. If only I could have those days back.

No, no no Ductor. I hate feeling sorry for myself even more than I hate being deaf. I'm not going to sit by and have a pity party for myself. That's not the Ductor I've ever been, and now is the worst time to get in my head.

"We were just saying that we were going to ally, right? All three of us?"

I nod, giving them a smile. "Yeah. Sure."

"Good," says Hamilton. I can't hear his tone, but he shifts from side to side and seems nervous. I notice his District partner glancing back at him to watch him every once in a while. "My District partner, Cory, doesn't want a big alliance. So I think she'll look elsewhere."

I nod. "Oh. Alright."

"I think we should focus on survival," Cyra says. "After all, they said that so many tributes die from the harsh conditions. So I think that we should work as a team to learn how to survive. Then I do think it's important to start learning at least one weapon."

Hamilton says something but his lips move so fast I can't catch his words. "Can you repeat that but slower please?" I feel my ears heating up again. "I'm sorry…"

"Oh, yeah. I was just saying that's exactly what I was thinking," says Hamilton.

"Right. Thanks. I think that's a good strategy."

"Alright, then let's go! If we wait much longer training will be over!" Hamilton says. I laugh, probably too loudly because I see other people look over and Cyra cringes a little bit. My ears burn as we all go to the station for tying knots together.

We try out some of the simplest ones, each of us taking a different kind. These kinds of knots are mostly just for setting traps for animals. The boy from 10 and the girl from 11 are by us, and one instructor shows the whole group of us how to tie knots that can be used as a fishing net. The three of us work together to make one, while 10 and 11 both struggle by themselves.

When I look up, the boy from 8 is showing off for the girls from 1 and 2, who are definitely judging him. The other weapons stations are taken up by tributes. The boy from 11 looks like he already somewhat knows how to use the scythe he has. The girl from 7 is horrifying with an axe. The boy from 1, though he didn't look like much when he volunteered, is getting to be scary with throwing stars. All-in-all, I think the Games are going to be one giant-ass nightmare for all of us involved.

Cyra taps my shoulder, snapping me out of my daze from looking around. "Ductor. Let's focus on the nets." She gives a nervous glance to the others as well.

"I think we're going to be in for a smaller Career pack," I comment, though immediately regret starting a conversation. I can't look at their lips and my hands at the same time trying to tie and talk. Sometimes I forget I'm deaf. Sometimes I still believe I can hear. Even though I can't. I don't think about how things will affect me now. I realize how much I'd take for granted when I could actually hear.

They discuss amongst themselves, but I can't hear them. I have to focus on my hands, not on their mouths, trying to figure out the words. I haven't gotten _that_ good yet. I work with my fingers well, though. I think that learning how to sign increases your dexterity like crazy, because I finish my part of the net before they do, and then I can follow them.

"Only two. So far. There might be more, though," Cyra comments, glancing back at the other tributes that are training hard and swallowing nervously. "And the girl from 10 that volunteered."

"A smaller Career pack means that survival is more important than ever," Hamilton. "It'll be less of a bloodbath and more of a group of people outlasting each other," Hamilton observes.

"Hopefully you're right," I say. I try not to remember that this is a fight to death from which one will come out. I can't get too close to these people. I have to keep remembering that. It's either them or me.

We sit and I watch them tie until they're done. I glance over at Raoul's and Martina's, each of them having a net that's small and pitiful. I'm suddenly glad I have allies. We hold up our net, practically big enough to hold a small tribute like the girl from District 9. It's also very sturdy, nothing that can't fit through the holes is getting out any time soon. Though it took a long while and sore hands, that'll do us well for the entirety of the Games. Not to mention the repeated motion of tying that provides a calm feeling. If we got a long wad of rope from the Cornucopia, as doubtful as it is, we could spend the morning tying to overcome nerves.

"Very good!" the lady says, clapping her hands. Sometimes I'm afraid that I'll completely forget what the noise sounds like someday. I'm afraid that I'll forget what the birds sound like, what my friends' voices sound like, what clapping and stomping sounds like, what shouting sounds like… I'm afraid I'll forget. Maybe I will.

I long for dreams. I can hear in my dreams, just like I could before the accident. I can hear my friend's voices, I can hear the sounds of footsteps, the sound of people pushing chairs in and shuffling and tapping fingernails on tables. It's the small things that really get me.

The instructor says something to Cyra, which she and Hamilton both pale and shake their heads at. When we get up to move to the next station, Cyra tells me that she asked if we'd like some lethal knots to hang other tributes alive. I understand why they got pale now. The thought of that is just sick.

We sit down at the fire-building station, where the boy from 4 and girl from 6 have both been unsuccessful thus far. The instructor explains it to Cyra and Hamilton, who explain it slower to me. Hamilton is the first to take a stick and start twisting it between his palms, as fast as he can. I watch him, giving him reassuring thumbs-up and words of encouragement. Cyra cheers him on vocally, with encouraging _"almost there!"s_ and _"so close!"s._ I can feel eyes on me and glance back briefly to see the boy from 4 watching us, focusing quickly back on his own fire.

He's successful before we are, but that doesn't worry me. After all, it's to be expected. He volunteered for this, after all. He has no reason to volunteer if he doesn't totally think he can get out alive. Why would anyone? They put out his fire and he gets up to go to another station. Meanwhile, we watch Hamilton. After a while of becoming frustrated, Hamilton hands the stick off to Cyra, who puts some more elbow grease into it, making smoke.

"So close…" I encourage her, causing her to move the stick faster, desperate for fire. She passes it off to me after a bit and I finish the job, moving the stick as fast as I can so that my heart rate's picked up by the time we get sparks that eventually engulf the stick into a full fire. The girl from 6 gets up and stomps off at that. The instructor puts out our fire, smiling at us and looking impressed. I have the feeling of Victory, and can't resist the instinct to look up at the balcony where the Head Gamemakers sit. They're still watching everyone intently, looking interested. Santana sits with another man around her age with orange hair, Diesel leans forward over the balcony, watching like this is some kind of crazy interesting documentary.

I glance back up and notice that Cyra and Hamilton have stood up, and quickly get up to follow them. We all go to the edible berries station. We decide to do the test as a team, consulting each other and voting with a majority-rules decision. We find that we usually agree on the choices, whether or not they're right is a different story. The first time we take the test, we would've starved, because we had a better-safe-than-sorry attitude. I guess we wouldn't have been poisoned, but if we don't eat _some_ berries, what's the point of doing the test?

We take the test again, depending on our collective memory of each one. This time we wouldn't have starved, but we would've been poisoned to death five times and had some _nasty_ diarrhea two times. We keep on taking the test, over and over again, until I feel like my neck's going to go stuff forever if I have to keep looking up at that screen.

Eventually, though, we get the test totally perfect. We take it again, to make sure. We're about to take it again when they call us to lunch. My group is in the front of the line, and find a table just as the girl from District 8 drops her plate on the ground. Everyone else covers their ears as her mouth is open, and even I can indistinctly make out the sounds of her screeching. Cory from District 5 and Kade from District 9 quickly rush over to help her. Collin looks stunned, and Iridesce from 1 snickers as an Avox cleans up the food and Felicity gets another plate.

I dig in hungrily, enjoying the food while I can. Pretty soon a meal like this is once again going to be nothing but a distant dream. Cyra eats slower, but still puts food into her mouth. Hamilton glances around nervously, his hand shaking slightly as he brings food to his mouth.

"You okay?" Cyra asks, concerned.

"Yeah… I'll be alright," he says. He keeps talking, but I think he's stuttering. "I-I just p-panic sometimes." He puts his head down on the table, and Cyra reacts like he said something else but whatever it was I don't know. I eat until my plate is empty, quickly getting up to get dessert.

When I get back, Cyra has Hamilton sitting up again. He keeps on eating, shoveling food into his mouth quietly. I keep on eating hungrily, enjoying what I have while I have it.

After lunch, we go back to the training center. Hamilton seems shaken, but keeps his composure. We go to the knives station, and start to learn together how to use the weapon. Focusing on the close range is easiest, so we each train with some of the Capitol trainers, and I don't see much of my allies through the afternoon.

By the time we retire, I'm so incredibly sweaty, exhausted, and worn out that I scarf down dinner and two rounds of dessert, shower, and fall asleep as soon as I hit my bed.

~.~.

 _-Briella, D7F-_

Breakfast that morning is absolutely silent.

Nobody talks. Heather glances back and forth between myself and Kendal. I feel fine eating with my mentor, but Kendal looks awkward being there with just the two of us.

Look, I admire what he did. Kid's got balls, I'll give him that. I'm still slightly shocked that he was so bold. When he was reaped, and up until that point, he seemed like a quiet, passive wallflower. Guess not, though. What he did was extremely bold.

And _extremely_ stupid. Adler Shelton is a no-nonsense guy. He doesn't take shit. He knows what he's doing, though, and he would've made a good mentor that gives plenty of survival advice. Giving up a resource like that, your _only_ resource? That was stupid. He should've been smart and taken his place. It's that kind of stupid golden heart bullshit that'll get you killed in the Arena. Now his only hope lies in Cobra, a rash, sensitive, disrespectful, touchy person that could possibly explode on him for no good reason at all. After all, they called him "an 11-year-old" and "monkey" and other horrible bullshit like that.

Whatever, though. I had the thought that maybe we could just trade mentors, but then I remembered what's on the line. Andy. Getting home. _Life_. Every disadvantage of his is another advantage of mine. He may have balls, but that could be the very thing that ends up biting him in the ass. If I'm ever going to see Andy again, he and 22 others will have to be dead. And I have to get home.

Cobra walks in, crossing their arms. "Adler is acting like a _child_!"

"Aw, did he refuse to hate-fuck you?" Heather asks. I think that Adler's not the only one that gets life-force from picking fights with Cobra.

They tense, making a noise of disgust. "What are you, 11 years old?"

Heather snickers. I feel extremely awkward, and Kendal sinks into his seat next to me. I glance down at the pancake. It has a smiley face on it, two slices of strawberry for eyes and a banana mouth. I take the fruit and start to cut it up.

"You're just too easy to tease," she laughs, eating her breakfast.

"Well _you're_ just plain rude!" Cobra says, putting whipped cream on their pancakes.

Heather fake-coughs. "cough cough don'tpretendthat'sAdler'sdick cough cough!"

Cobra glares over at her, their cat eyes digging into Heather's very soul, but she doesn't crack. She just snickers. I feel Kendal glancing at me, probably to exchange a _they're-so-weird-and-crazy_ look, but I don't look back at him. I can't afford to become close to him. We are not going to be friends.

I pick at the pancake, watching Heather snicker as she finishes eating. Avoxes come in to collect dishes and I realize that today we start training.

"Come now," says Cobra. "You two and your mentors have to be present for training."

"You're not a mentor," Heather says snidely, "You're still an escort. Don't go trying to claim the title without being emotionally scarred in the Games first."

Cobra calls the elevator. "You District 7 Victors are the most unpleasant I've ever seen!" they say, sounding disgusted.

Heather gasps dramatically, in feigned horror and shock. "What!? Oh no! I had no idea! Now that you say that totally unnecessary comment of course I'm going to change! I'm sorry there was ever a time I chose to _not_ love my abusers!" She finishes with a calm scowl, which Cobra returns.

"You are blessed to be able to spend time in the Capitol, Missy!" Cobra shrieks. The elevator opens and the crew from District 10 stares at us.

"Uh, we'll take the next one," Kendal says awkwardly. There's a second more of awkward staring at each other between both groups before the doors close again and the elevator keeps going down.

The elevator takes a while to come back for us, probably picking up the groups from a lower floor and taking them down. Finally the doors open and the elevator is empty. We all step in, Heather and Cobra still bickering. We keep going upwards, and stop all the way up at floor 11.

Instead of taking the next one, though, the escort from there piles her group in, all of them bright and vibrant. The old wrinkly lady stands closest to the doors. Chaff Durant absolutely reeks like alcohol. Donavan Osten stands awkwardly against one of the walls. The elevator stops at District 6 on the way down, and the escort, younger than the others, clops in on her high heels, her tire right in my face as she piles her group in. Allocen Barque and Clara Revery are now closest to the doors.

"Sorry guys," Amari says, laughing good-naturedly. Some of the other good-humored ones, including Martina, give awkward laughs. Billie looks pissed having to be in such a tight space. "You're all really cozy though." More awkward laughing. I count down the floors until we're underground at the Training Center.

I glance at Kendal, who is smushed tight against the boy from 11, whose ears and face look suspiciously flushed, as Billie nudges people out of her way to have more personal space.

Finally the doors open and the group pushes out of the elevator, much to the relief of all of us. I'm glad to have room to breathe. We go out to the center as the elevator goes back up.

The lady gives the rules and releases us for training. Kendal gives me a look, and I suddenly wonder by the look in his eyes if he's considering asking me to ally with him. I wasn't particularly looking for an ally, I work just fine by myself. Besides, I feel like if we allied together, there'd be too big a conflict of interests.

This is the Hunger Games. If you want to live, you can't always dish out justice like a hero. You have to play the game.

I start out simple at some of the survival stations, making a plan for the day to follow so I can get time at the most important stations. Eventually, I start to try out the axes, showing the other tributes and Gamemakers that they'd better not mess with me.

I'm approached by the girl from 1 early on, with the proposition of me joining the Careers. I had never considered it. Me? A _Career_? What the hell would that mean? That changes the game completely, my strategy… I don't know if I want to do it. Careers are known for using outer District tributes and dumping them off. But it's exactly the kind of alliance I want. Curt, trust before separating ways, no attachment. Especially with how the Careers turned out this year, the fact that the alliance is going to be smaller and less lethal… I could rival them. I could pull my weight. I don't know if I would want such a big alliance, but… It's definitely a thought.

I eat lunch alone, and Kendal sits by me. We don't talk, but eating with someone at least half-familiar is reassuring somehow. The tributes from District 3 eat with the 5 boy, the Careers talk quietly, and it's awkwardly quiet.

"Much less of a headache without the adults, huh?" Kendal comments, putting a bite of salad into his mouth.

"Heh. Yeah," I say awkwardly. We keep eating in silence, and none of us talk for the rest of the time.

Lunch ends and we all go back out onto the floor for some more training. I stay at the survival stations that afternoon, budgeting my time. Maggie catches me at the butchering station.

"Riella! Right?"

"Uh, yeah, hi."

"So, at your reaping… I saw… Were you…"

"Andy's my girlfriend, yes," I say curtly. I don't have time for the shock everyone seems to experience when I tell them this news.

"I have a girlfriend too," says Maggie, causing me to look up. "Hannah."

"…Oh."

Maggie looks around nervously. "Look, I don't have much time because Iridesce will be looking, but I don't trust these Careers she wants to collect. She wants to do a lot of playing dirty and sabotaging the others, and targeting the Four tributes… I don't like the big alliance. Would you like to work something out?"

"Huh? Uh… We'll see," I say. That's an even more interesting proposition.

"Talk to me later," she says quickly, leaving me before Iridesce can turn around. I work on the survival stations for the rest of the afternoons and don't have any conversations with tributes for the rest of the time.

We all eat dinner together, Cobra chattering mindlessly about stupid Capitol affairs and shit like that. Heather makes faces while they talk, pausing only to snicker. Kendal and I eat silently.

"Heather! Cut that out!" Cobra scolds like Heather's five years old.

" _Heather! Cut that out!"_ she mocks. _"Mememe. Listen while I talk. Blah blah blah blah. Even though nobody cares at all!"_

Cobra's face burns red, causing Heather to snort.

"You will have some _respect_!" they shriek.

" _You will have some respect!"_ Heather mimics. Cobra gets up, shoves their chair in forcefully, and stomps off. Heather laughs.

Kendal sinks in his seat, pushing Brussels sprouts around with his fork. "I think I'm done," he mumbles, pushing in his chair and going back to his room.

"So, Riella, how've you enjoyed your training?" she asks.

"Enjoyed? Seems like an odd word."

"I liked my training. It gave way to my true ambitions. Let me branch out and dominate and figure out my strategy."

"It was fine."

"Any allies? Or at least possibilities?"

"Well…" I bite my lip. "Uh… I was asked… To join the Careers."

Heather's eyebrow shoots up. "The Careers? As in… _the_ Careers?"

I don't get why she's making such a big deal out of it. "Yeah. As in _the_ Careers. Iridesce and Maggie and all them."

"That's quite the offer, Riella."

"I know it is. What should I do?"

She bites her lip. "Well, I think you know better than me. You could do fine on your own, hell, I did. But ultimately, it's your decisions and your brain that will decide your fate. My words can only do so much."

"Right." I bite my lip. I shouldn't be wary of telling my mentor these things, but I worry Kendal might be eavesdropping or something. I dunno. "There is… Another option."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Maggie, from District 2. She… Is hesitant about the Careers like I am. She asked if we could team up. But I don't see how we can do that without pissing off the others. She said the 4 tributes have become targets."

"Oh." Heather cringes slightly. "Yeah. Well, that's getting risky. The most tempting reward, of course, but the riskiest means. I think it's all up to you Riella. Don't stress out, though. You still have plenty of time to figure it out. Two more days of training before you even have to remotely worry."

I nod a bit, some of my worries put to rest. "Right. Thanks."

Heather stands up. "Alright, kid, good talk. Go get some rest, you have another long day of training tomorrow."

I nod a bit, rubbing my eyes and yawning. "Alright. Good night Heather."

I walk to my room, stripping off my clothes and taking a shower, feeling relieved. I shampoo violently, still trying to get the crazy green stuff out of my hair if I can. It's a relief to wash off in the warm water, soothing my muscles. I stretch, feeling the warmth and gentle pressure and sighing quietly.

I pull on my PJs, sighing in relief as I climb into bed. I'm comfortable, maybe too comfortable to possibly be able to sleep. I miss the small bed I shared with Andy. I miss the cramped but cozy apartment we called home. I miss the relief of being in her arms after another long day of work. I miss home. I didn't have much but I miss it so much.

I hear footsteps and figure Kendal must be on his way out to the balcony. I couldn't stand being out there, though, I'd get too homesick.

I feel sleep pulling me in and close my eyes, knowing that tomorrow's going to be another long day.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Hi! Back again with another update! Here you go, hope you like it!**_

 _ **I'm sorry there's still so much to go before the Games actually start. I promise I'm trying to get through all this pre-Games stuff as quick as possible so we can get to the action, but I like to develop the characters more and each one is getting another POV. Trust me, though. I'm learning a lot of lessons from this SYOT that will be applied to my next SYOT, if I have the time for one with my freshman year of college!**_

 _ **I hope you're all enjoying the story! I know there are a few characters that haven't been mentioned much, but I promise I'll get to them. Please let me know what you like and what you want to see more of in the reviews!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Who do you think Riella should choose to ally with? No one? Kendal? The Careers? Maggie? I just want to see what you guys think!**_


	21. Training Day 2, Part I

-Edgard, D11M-

I don't want to wake up the next morning. The bed is just too comfortable and warm.

Delicia, our escort, throws the door open and the lights on. "Time to get up!" she says, her voice shrill. "Come on now! Up up up!" I hear her heels clicking away as she goes to retrieve my District partner. Martina and I haven't really been talking. She's solitary, I don't believe she wants to have allies. I won't push her.

I get up and rub my eyes. It's time for another day of training. When I glance at the clock, I realize that Delicia has chosen to awaken us earlier, probably in hopes that we can avoid the elevator jam that happened yesterday. I wish she hadn't forced us to get on. I got pretty up close and personal with that kid from Seven. He smelled good though. I've lingered on it pretty much all day after that. Anyways, I should _definitely_ stop lingering on it now. It's one of those things that you have to focus on not thinking about, which, of course, makes you keep on thinking about it.

I go to the bathroom and wash my face, surprised at my reflection in the mirror. I still look like a Capitolite. If I wasn't going into a fight to the death, I know that Mich and Kayla would die of laughter. I envy the tributes that wore contacts instead of getting whatever the heck weird injection they gave us. It seems that not a lot of people got the contacts, though. I spent a lot of time with the scythes yesterday, trying to impress the co-Head Gamemakers while they're still fresh. If they're impressed by me now, they'll want to pay more attention to me later, when it matters most.

Today, though, I need to kick it into high gear and find myself an alliance and get on these survival stations. That will definitely be today's focus.

I get dressed in the uniform of training, and suddenly get hit right in the chest with frustration that I don't have a token. It's times like this that I'd like to remember where I came from, what I have to fight for. Of course I can remember, I love my friends and family, but not having the physical representation? That stings at the most random times.

I walk out to the kitchen, where Delicia sits fondly at the table. Chaff sits across from her, pouring some drink into his glass that may or may not be alcoholic. He says stuff about training and Martina listens eagerly, feasting off of every word.

"Oh, Edgard, good morning! Please, have a seat." I slide into a seat, thanking an Avox quietly when she delivers me a plate. Delicia clears her throat pointedly. "Don't thank Avoxes, young man! Honestly, if you even have any hope- which you don't- you have to learn how Capitol society works." I don't particularly care to do that, but I nod obediently. If there's anything the Capitolite Peacekeepers that frequent my family's bar like, it's being agreed with. And served alcohol. Especially both.

They set a plate in front of me with a huge waffle, covered in powdered sugar and whipped cream. I cut it up and put some syrup on it, still slightly awkward with the process because I've never eaten so politely.

Delicia is about to talk to me, adjusting her lemon headpiece, but thankfully my mentor Donavan Osten enters just then. He takes a seat at the table and takes a waffle. We sit in silence. I hear Chaff talking silently to Martina, and together they go to another car. I guess they're taking advantage of the time we're taking to eat. Delicia gushes and follows them, seeming impressed at how dedicated they are.

I glance up at my mentor, but feel far too awkward to try and start any kind of conversation. What can I say? Compared to Martina, I have absolutely no chance. She's strong, feisty, charismatic, and independent. I can't match up to her.

"So…" Donavan pushes a piece of waffle around with his fork. "Your second day of training."

"Yeah."

"You said you spent most of your time with weapons yesterday?"

"Scythe, yeah." I put some more waffles in my mouth.

"Hm. Survival today, of course."

"And allies." I say while I swallow the waffles. He tenses.

"Allies," he repeats.

"I'm going to need a couple, no?" I look up. What if I'm wrong about this?

"Edgard, my boy… How many are you thinking here?"

"At least one or two. Why?"

"Allies are something to be used with caution." His voice has gone ice cold and lowered in tone and volume. "I tell you the harsh truth because I want you to succeed. But the truth of the matter is that you're still just kids. No matter how you look at it. You are going to form a connection with any allies you make, any tributes you take the time to learn the story of. You're going to have a bond with them, you're going to root for them while still rooting for yourself. Then, you either lose them or you die." He isn't looking at me anymore. He's staring at his waffles and pushing them around. "And if you lose your ally, my boy, you will either have the motivation to win it all, or you'll lose your head. Or, in some drastic cases, both."

I blink at him, not sure what to say. He glances at his hands, as if there's something disgusting on them he wants to wash off.

"I won't get-"

"You say you won't. But you will. Please, my boy, I've seen this happen far too many times before. If you lose your head and become something you hate… You will never forgive yourself." The hurt in his eyes is fresh, even though he won the Games 45 years ago. "You never forget them."

Since we don't have many Victors, his Games are still fresh in memory. He was one of District 11's rare volunteers, in fact, one of four in the whole history of the District. He allied with the boy from District… Shit, I forget. Anyways, he allied with this kid, from… 3? 5? 6? Something like that. Together, they had a big plan to blow up the Careers. They took the kid and butchered him, gutting him like a fish. It was graphic, and brutal, and the teachers wouldn't let anyone look away, spewing Capitol propaganda the whole time it was happening. I wasn't _in_ the Games, and I would never forget watching it. Anyways, the boy shouted at Donovan to run, and he did. Later, he got his revenge: bloody, bloody revenge. It was brutal and horrifying to watch. I remember it so vividly.

No wonder he's telling me this.

"Allies can be a big help. They can be your motivation to win. They can be the fire under your ass. When you lose them, you could also lose your head." He sips a glass of orange juice, and I think the word "Lev" forms on his lips. "They can also be your downfall, if you become dependent on them. Having an ally is a risk. Having two is an even bigger one. You could end up losing sanity over it, going around and pretending to see ghosts just to have them back. Or rely on drugs to get rid of them. Or-"

"I understand," I say quickly. He's really freaking me out.

"Oh yes, of course. I'm sorry, I got off topic. I just think-"

"Come on, boys!" calls Delicia irritably, calling the elevator. "It's time to go!"

"I'll be careful," I say. He still seems concerned, but lets it go as we go to meet the others.

The elevator opens, and the District 12 crew is on.

"Hey, Osten!" Haymitch gives a wave, and Donavan gets on the elevator, the rest of us following. The boy from 12 has his gray eyes back, making me jealous. He must've worn the contacts. The girl is keeping her head up.

"Morning Abernathy," Donovan says, seeming much more chipper than he was when he was giving me that dad-talk not too long ago.

"Another day, eh?"

"Certainly is."

"I'll drink to that," says Chaff, causing the three men to laugh. You know, it doesn't surprise me that these three are close, in hindsight.

"One more day of survival, of fostering our tributes to face the Games," Haymitch sighs.

"Well, I've got a winner here," Chaff says.

"I've got two stubborn ones," says Haymitch, smirking. The 12 tributes exchange a look, seeming slightly uncomfortable.

I sink, not expecting my mentor to say anything about me. I mean, I haven't done very much exceptional or strong-willed to earn his respect. "Mine here is very dedicated, don't count him out."

The conversation is cut off when the elevator stops at the 8th floor, and the eyes of two tributes, their mentors, and escort stare at us.

I do a double-take at the escort. She looks like some creepily pretty porcelain doll. Her skin is even pale, almost powder-white. She nudges the tributes forward, but Felicity stomps her foot.

"I'm not getting on that crowded thing!" she shrieks, throwing her arms up. Her eyes are hazel and wide, so she must've been lucky enough to get the contacts as well.

"Me neither," says the boy, crossing his arms, his lips in a snarl.

The escort sighs.

"Have a good day!" offers Jute Silk, Victor of the 67th Games. He gives a weak, friendly smile. Beside him, the oldest mentor to be around this year according to the documentary on TV, Carissa Kempton. She won 9 years before Donavan. We stand there, as the elevator insists on waiting for the others to get in, no matter how much Leo mashes the door close button. Finally, after what seems like forever of awkward staring at each other, the doors close.

"Anyways, you're both from outer Districts," snips Delicia, "Compared to the upper District tributes, no one of you has any chance at all."

"I believe District 12 is due for another Victor," says their escort, wearing a powdered wig and is very pink. "And this year may just be it."

"I have no faith," Delicia sighs, "I _could_ have been transferred to a District that actually has a chance, but that immature and arrogant Diesel Bundren _had_ to put his friends there. How incredibly rude and unfair!" She adjusts her lemony headpiece, scowling.

"You just have to keep a smile on," says the 12 escort, trying not to give a distasteful look to Haymitch.

"It's hard when your tributes are-" she's cut off (thank God) by the elevator doors opening and letting us all out.

The second day of training commences, and I walk to the fire-building station. I see some tributes working on it, but can't find the courage to start a conversation with any of them. When I think about it, the words are on my tongue, and I just can't force them out. I sit at the station, rubbing some sticks together.

"How're you doing?" I look over, confused, before I realize that the girl from 10 is talking to me.

"Oh… Hey." Her hair wasn't this copper brown color at her reaping. The black hair suits her much better. Her eyes are brown, but they're a much darker, deeper brown, so I'm guessing there was work involved with that.

"Eleven, huh?"

I glance awkwardly at the number on my shirt and nod. "Uh, yeah."

"Nice. I'm from the hell called District 10. My name's Rachel."

"Edgard."

"Nice to meet you, Edgard."

"You too." I try to focus on talking to her without sounding stupid and making a fire at the same time, but that doesn't go very well for me.

"So, hun, how's that fire going?"

"I'm trying."

"Ah, yeah. It's damn hard, but you'll get a grasp of it, I'm sure." There's an awkward pause. "I know I didn't look like a fucking Capitolite at the reaping, but I volunteered."

Yeah, I remember. How could I forget? Volunteers aren't exactly common. I nod, trying to make enough friction to produce a fire.

"I'm looking for some allies, though."

"Oh."

"Y'know, Doll, two brains are better than one." She taps her temple.

I nod, focused on the fire. I concentrate, and when I finally start to see some smoke, she's gone.

After I make a fire, I go to the edible berries test. I stare at the screen, giving a brief glance to the boy beside me, Rachel's District partner. He's messing with something, some kind of coil or something, I'm not sure. I'm jealous that he has a token. I run through the test once before I finally have the courage to say something to him.

"What's that?"

He looks up from where he'd just gotten severe diarrhea from eating some questionable berries.

"Around your finger?"

"This? Oh, this is my token."

"Well duh, I can see that." Shoot, I hope he doesn't think I'm being mean. Just teasingly sarcastic, that's all. "But what is it?"

"A string. That goes to my fiddle." His fingers twitch, itching for the instrument to be back in them. I wonder what it must be like to love something so passionately.

"Raoul," he says. I remember that he tripped up the steps at his reaping, and think that maybe he's more in my league to ally with than Rachel.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Edgard."

"Nice to meet you too."

"Do you play a lot of music?"

"All the time," he says. His eyes, synthetically the color of rust, look longing, upset. "It's kind of my life-force." His hands twitch, as if he wants to start playing an air fiddle, just for the longing of having a real instrument in his hand.

"Ah. I… I don't really have anything like that." I wish I did. I wish I had a purpose. I wish I had something I could do, something I could provide for other people. I wish.

"Hm."

We go back to the test. My hand hovers above the SAFE setting, and Raoul nudges my arm.

"Not safe," he says. "You'll die instantly."

"Oh. Thanks. You just saved my life there." I offer a light-hearted smile and select the NOT SAFE option.

"Sure thing." He gives a small smile back.

"I think I have the hang of the test, so I'm going to go try some other things to clear my mind and see how much I remember. Maybe we'll meet again though."

"Yeah. I'd like that." He goes off.

I keep on training until lunch. I get food and look around for somewhere to sit. I don't see Raoul sitting, so I slide into a seat. I tense up when I notice Diesel Bundren and Santana Villanueva walking around, though. I accidentally make eye-contact with Mr. Bundren, whose ice blue eyes lock on me and come over to sit across from me.

"Edgard from 11," he says, his voice thickly laced with his accent.

I feel weird eating while he's watching me, so I push my food around with my fork.

"How's training gone for you so far?"

"Er, it's gone well," I say, trying to plan out my responses, my heart beating hard. If I say something wrong, I'll never hear the end of it.

"Ah, very good." He smiles at me. I shift nervously.

Suddenly, a figure comes and sits next to me. It's nobody I've really talked to, though. It's the boy from District 7. His glance is confidently on the Capitolite.

"Ah, yes. Kendal from 7."

"That's me." _Could he have really seen that I was uncomfortable?_

"Ally-searching, are we?" Mr. Bundren asks, clicking his pen on his clipboard and watching us intently, studying us.

"Of course. I'm surveying my options." I don't know if his confidence is real or faked.

"I would hope so. Especially after you lost your mentor. What exactly happened there, eh?"

I feel my eyes widen slightly, glancing at them in surprise. But it appears as if Diesel's completely forgotten about me, holding Kendal's stare, neither of them budging. Ice blue against the synthetic moss green of Kendal's.

"Adler was disrespecting Cobra's pronouns," he says, his voice not even shaking and laced with a sort of defiance. "I refused to be mentored by someone who blatantly chooses to bully and disrespect another human being. No matter what kind of person they are. They deserve respect."

"Ballsy of you indeed," muses Mr. Bundren.

"Not ballsy. Just necessary."

"Seems to be a sensitive issue?"

"It's just a matter of decency and respect," says Kendal irritably.

"Interesting. You certainly are headstrong."

"About matters like that, of course I am."

"So," Mr. Bundren breaks the intense stare-off by glancing back at me. "You're considering teaming up with Edgard here?"

"It's a definite possibility." He speaks as if we'd had a proper conversation before. We haven't, and I know by the look on the Capitolite's face that he knows it, but I feel extremely grateful that Kendal jumped in the conversation for me. I quickly nod in agreement.

"Interesting," Mr. Bundren says, putting his pen in his mouth. "You must've seen him training with his scythe, no?"

"I've been plenty observant," he says, flipping some of the dark, green-streaked hair out of his eyes.

"Of course you have. Well, I wish you both the best of luck in your training and look forward to talking to you again."

"Thanks for your time," I say. I don't know where it comes from, I guess I've always just been taught to be polite. There's no good reason on earth I should be _thanking_ him, he's designed the Arena that could very well be my place of death! I kick myself for saying it, but Mr. Bundren just cracks a smile.

"May the odds be ever in your favor, my dear boy." He walks away to talk to some other tributes.

I turn to Kendal. "Hey, th-thanks for jumping in there. You're a life saver."

"No problem," he says. "I noticed you looked kind of distressed."

"I hate having them breathe down our throats," I say.

"Me too," he sighs.

"Is that true? About you losing your mentor?"

"Yes. It's true. Anyways, I'll leave you to eat." He picks up his tray.

"You can stay here, if you like!" I offer. I might be getting myself into trouble here, chatting with him and promising to see Raoul later, but I can't just let him go eat alone.

"Oh. Thank you." He smiles at me, and my heart thumps. He has a cute smile.

I quickly get to eating, knowing that it's going to be a long afternoon and evening.

~.~.

-Kade, D9M-

I sit awake, though there are about two hours until I formally have to get out of bed. I sit in my bed, knowing I'm not going to get back to sleep. I turn the TV on to distract me, and watch the reruns of the 36th Games that they play, featuring the homeless boy from District 3 who eventually becomes the Victor and suddenly has everything.

 _If he can do it, so can I,_ I tell myself. I watch the happenings on the TV as some kind of way to distract myself from the fact that I'm going to have to live this eventually. For now, I just have to survive the week with James and the mentors squaring off.

Lately, things in the District 9 compartment have been kind of… Tense.

James, our escort, has refused to associate with us when either of the mentors are away, and neither Karima nor I would really like to be alone with James.

I know I shouldn't, but I can't help but keep an eye on Karima. She's young, and she's afraid. I know she's doing her best. The thought of an innocent, young girl alone in a room with a monster like James is a scary one. I have to make sure she doesn't have to go through that. She's already going to be thrown into a fight to the death, after all.

I shouldn't be so protective, maybe, but it's not like I'm going to ally with the girl. I'm looking for allies that are more capable than that. But… She's just a little girl, forced to deal with so many emotions at once. Maybe 15 is too young, but to me it is. Especially with her. She seems to be slightly OCD, throwing a bit of a fit when Sunnoria unknowingly set the volume to 33. She's just a kid that deserved so much better than this. She still carries around a bunny stuffed animal, for heaven's sakes! What kind of person would be rooting for this girl to die!?

I sigh and run a hand through my hair, the bangs now beige and gross. I still can't get used to seeing those bright, practically glowing orange eyes in the mirror. Almost reminds me of James's red ones. Now that's a scary thought. Ending up like James.

We all eat breakfast together, James on the other side of the room. I keep glancing at Karima, who silently brings food up to her mouth and doesn't talk. I feel the eyes of my mentor, Gabriel, on me, and go back to eating the waffle and bacon and toast and eggs they've piled my plate with.

"Come on, dear," Sunnoria says, when Karima's done eating, "Let's get downstairs."

I get up but Gabriel doesn't.

"Go on, we'll catch up with you," he says. Sunnoria nods gravely, gently patting Karima's back as they get on the elevator. James gets up and goes to the elevator as well, throwing a glare behind his shoulder that gives me chills. He's still mad at Gabriel for sassing him on the train.

"Uh, am I-"

"Kade, have a seat." I swallow hard and nod, obediently taking a seat. Am I in trouble or something?

"I notice you're keeping an eye on young Karima."

I nod a bit. "Of course. She's my District partner."

"You must be careful about that," warns the 61st Victor.

"I'm not going to put myself in danger for her sake," I say, thinking about Sophia. She's really all I have left, but I'm also all _she_ has left. Without me, she doesn't have anyone to fall back on. She needs me and you bet your ass I'm going to fight to get back to her. The riches and luxuries are nothing compared to getting back home, to where I belong.

Gabriel snaps me out of my daydream. "You are going to become attached to this girl."

"I guess it's an older brother instinct-"

"No," he says gravely.

"Excuse me?"

"No." He sighs and puts his fork down. "Kade, you have to understand something about the nature of the Games. The Games are not the place for that. They are not the place for emotions, for these _older brother instincts_ of which you speak. People are going to have to die. She is going to have to die. They are all going to have to die if you want to see your home, your family, your friends again." I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to inform him that I don't have a family anymore. He continues. "Once you get in there, you can't be human any more, not if you want to get out. People become monsters the moment the glass falls away and to survive, you've got be willing to be a monster too."

"No." I refuse to believe it. "You can win the Games without being a monster, it's happened before."

"When?" he fires back.

"Er… The rerun of the 36th Games played, he wasn't a monster."

"He wasn't. Then he left that girl to die brutally and did nothing to help her. Becoming a monster is inevitable. It's when that varies."

I swallow a lump in my throat. I try to deny it, but something tells me I should trust my mentor. He calls the elevator, and we both step on. We travel up, probably to pick up someone else before going back down.

"I hope you consider this in your interactions with these people. You either become the monster or the victim, Kade. And I believe you to be a young man with a lot of potential. I would hate to see you become a victim."

We stop at the 10th floor. The escort there has sweet brown eyes and brings her group on, pulling her high ponytail of brown tighter.

"Good morning," she says politely.

"Morning," says Gabriel, the graveness out of his tone. Both mentors stand to the side. Zander Smith glares at the escort in distaste, seeming pretty gruff. The girl seems to me to be pretty cold herself. Neither of them radiate the supposed likable hospitality of the livestock District.

The boy fidgets nervously, but Rachel seems confident.

"Top of the morning to you Kade," she says politely.

"Hey Rachel."

Gabriel bumps me. I shake him off, knowing that I may need an ally and it's better to be on a volunteer's good side than her bad. I feel Aleah Meyers's eyes on me, though. Rachel's mentor. Maybe sizing me up. Probably. That's a mentor's job, after all.

"Ready for another day back at it training?" she asks me.

"Yeah, I suppose. I'm still kind of tuckered out from yesterday, though," I say, somehow trying to be tense and relaxed at the same time.

"Me too," she says. "It's damn harder than it looks. I've done some training myself," she says, brushing imaginary dust off her shoulders. "But it was fucking _nothing_ like this."

"I tried to train too," I say. Gabriel bumps me harder, and Aleah gives Rachel and me both a glare. The elevator doors open and Raoul is the first to quickly escape, Gabriel following, giving me a stern look behind his shoulder that roughly translates to "You dense piece of shit, don't you remember what we literally _just_ talked about?!" I shrug at him.

Rachel walks across the training center with her mentor, but gives me a look over her shoulder that roughly translates to "Talk to me later." Or at least I hope it does.

I spent a lot of time on survival yesterday, so today I hope to even it out by learning some combat. I go over to the fighting station first, confident that I'll be able to learn quickly after spending so much time learning from and training with Sophia. I spend some time learning proper technique from a trainer before putting it into practice.

I fight hard and put a lot of effort in, knowing that at any second I could have any number of Capitolite eyes on me, and I need them to know that I mean business and I'm not going to accept anything less than victory. Not only for my living friend, Sophia, but also for my family, for my sister Lydia, who was wronged in the Games… I notice Iridesce by her magenta hair and glare her way. It was her mentor that took my sister's life.

I get knocked over in my second of distraction and am reminded of the valuable lesson that in a fight, one second of distraction can cause the tide to turn completely. I can't hate Iridesce because of what her mentor did to Lydia. But I can't help it. After all, I have to be a monster, right? Gabriel'd tell me to let that vengeance be my fuel.

Lydia isn't the only one I'm fighting for, though. My mother, who died soon after Lydia, my sister Gabriella who feel of pneumonia soon after. I have plenty of people to fight for.

When James said we had no chance because of where we were from, I wanted to kill him. I stopped myself, but I wanted to strangle him. That has nothing to do with it. I am strong, District 9 has had its share of Victors, and I'm going to win. I let that spite drive me in the fighting, and the trainer seems impress when I am able to subdue him.

"Good job," he says.

"Thanks." I release him and thank him again for his help before going to try out a weapon. I feel eyes on me and notice Karima looking my way. I want to talk to her, or give her some kind of reassuring look, but Gabriel's words play around in my head, and I turn around, trying to let go of the big brotherly instincts I have.

I pick up a sword and feel a light tap on my shoulder.

"Hey there," Rachel grins at me.

"Hi," I say, adjusting my grip on the sword.

"I saw you fighting over there. I was chatting with the boy from 11, but he didn't care much for me. I'm impressed, though, you fought pretty fucking well."

"Thanks," I say, glancing over at her. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" I tease.

"I would," she says, seeming bitter, "If I _had_ my mother."

"You… You don't."

"You're holding your sword wrong," she says, adjusting my grip.

"Oh, thanks."

"Mhm. Anyways, yeah. My parents were killed in an uprising when I was little."

"Oh. That's a shame. I'm an orphan, too."

"Yeah?" She winks, "Damn, I knew I liked you." I try not to grimace, the Gabriel in my head yelling something about being a monster.

I start focusing on how to use the sword. Rachel does really well with it, probably because she spent some time there yesterday and she said she trained back home… She's kind of like girl me.

"If you're wondering about my guns, doll," she says, gesturing to her arms, "I work at a butcher's. Lost a sis to the fucking Games already, the brother married away."

"I… Lost a sister to the Games too." I kick myself for saying it. It's just so weird that our lives are so… Pareallel. I know I shouldn't get to know her, that I've already gotten to know too much to kill her with a clean conscience, but I can't help it. Gabriel's smart, but I can judge for myself.

"Oh." We stay in silence, both of us swinging swords. I wonder why she volunteered if she lost her sister already. I wonder what prompted her to do it.

Rachel swings her sword, but continues the conversation. "It fucking sucks ass, doesn't it?" she asks, striking a dummy with a surprising amount of force.

"It really fucking sucks ass," I agree, letting my spite guide me as I start to attack the dummy. I can't imagine the dummy being a life, a real life like my sisters', mother's, I can't imagine it. For now, though, I can make the fake dummy bleed and pretend that when it gets down to it I'll actually be able to be a monster like Gabriel said.

Rachel strikes at the dummy, and I do the same until I feel satisfied that I can make it work. After that, I continue to hop stations. Occasionally I lock eyes with Rachel, who winks at me and causes me to roll me eyes, although I don't mind. She's fun and playful, sure, but friendly. Too friendly, probably. I'm too friendly, that's for sure. I'm gonna be roasted by Gabriel tonight in the compartment.

We keep training until lunch. I try to prevent from checking on Karima, but every once in a while I accidentally notice her and then feel relieved that at least she's safe. She seems to be learning, she's been talking to some people I'm pretty sure. I think I see her with that 15-year-old from District 6, and she even talks to a few that are older than her.

Lunch time comes around and I get my food and sit at a table far away from Karima, resisting the temptation to check on her and ask how her training is going. A tray plops down in front of me, and Rachel takes a seat across from me.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey."

"How's your surviving been going there, Hun?"

"Fine," I say, putting some food in my mouth. "You? Try to answer without the use of the word _fucking_."

She laughs a bit. "Fine. It's going damn well."

I sigh. She smiles sweetly at me. "Technically didn't say _fucking_."

"Yeah yeah." I wave a hand dismissively, cracking a smile. I shouldn't be letting her make me smile like this, and I know it damn well. I shouldn't be letting her in like this. She shouldn't be my friend, because in less than a week, we'll be pit against each other in a fight to the death. I can't let my guard down.

"So, are we gonna ally or what, Doll?" she picks at the acrylic nails they put on her.

"Oh." Gotta give her credit for being forward with it. "Sure. I'd like that."

"Nice." She grins at me, and I return the smile. The Gabriel in the back of my head is less than satisfied, but I honestly think that having a partner in survival for a while will do me good.

"Mhm."

We eat, in silence. Santana Villanueva spots us and comes over, sitting by us.

"So, Kade and Rachel. Nine and Ten." She flips a couple of papers on her clipboard.

"That's right," I say. Rachel nods.

"You've both found your niche areas, haven't you?" she flips her scrunched black ponytail over her shoulder.

Both of us nod. "I've had kind of a rough upbringing. I can deal with rough," Rachel says.

"Me too," I say.

"So I've heard. You're going to ally, then?" she asks. I put some more food in my mouth.

"That's right," I say.

"Just made it official," Rachel nods.

"Interesting." She looks slightly as if she doubts how long it will last. "You've found you have many similarities, then, I assume?"

We exchange a look. These guys must do their research.

"Yeah," Rachel says, swallowing food at the same time. Not exactly _polite_ , but Ms. Villanueva doesn't seem to mind.

"It was very interesting to us as well. I think they will either prove your biggest strength or your ultimate downfall as a team."

"It'll be a strength," Rachel says, "I just know it."

"For your sakes, I do hope it is. For the sake of the show, though… I must say I hope not." She stands up. "Thank you for your time, then. May the odds be ever in your favor." She walks away.

"Well, she's just a fucking _joy_ , ain't she?"

I nod a bit, trying not to doubt my decision. I can't get attached to Rachel, we can't be friends. We have to stay curt and at least somewhat of a mystery to each other. I have to keep remembering that.

"We should divide and conquer, learn as much as humanly possible."

"Right." I nod. We get up to put our trays away. I look at the Career pack. Iridesce sits with Callum and Maggie, and Nautica from 8, and Briella from 7. They finish soon after and put their trays back, and we're back at training.

" _You have to be a monster,"_ says the Gabriel inside my head. _"You're making a mistake!"_

"I'll figure it out," I mutter to myself desperately, "I need an ally to survive with for a while, that's all we are." For some reason it's easier to believe when I say it out loud. Maybe that's because it feels less like making hopeless excuses that way. "I'm not making a mistake. I'll figure it out. I have to figure it out."

I think about Sophia. I have to get back home to Sophia. I still have to avenge my sister. Then again, how am I going to kill Iridesce alone when she has her Careers? Alliances have their pros and cons, but I'm determined to have more pros than cons with this one.

I have to be a monster, I have to fight, I have to kill. But I'm not going to be able to do most of that alone. I'll need a partner in crime, if only for a bit.

I just have to make sure that I don't entangle myself with Rachel too much. We just need to stay curt, though trusting.

I can do it. I know what I'm doing. This isn't a mistake.

Maybe it's inevitable that I become a monster.

But I do have the power to put it off as long as possible. And I intend to use that power to its fullest.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Guess who's sick AGAIN and stayed up past 11 to finish this chapter? This bitch. Guess who also has no regrets about that? THIS BITCH.**_

 _ **I hope you're liking the characters more now that they're less backstory reapings and more plot. Also, I hope you're enjoying the views of the mentors. If there's any specific characters/interactions/scenes you'd like to see or see more of, tell me! Either through reviews or PMs, let me know and I'll do my best to throw it in!**_

 _ **Okay so how much do you guys ship Rachel/Kade? This isn't the CQ but if you wanna answer you can XD I'm sorry, I didn't mean for them to be that shippy. It just kind of happened. Maybe it's just late and I'm seeing things. But let me know what you think!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Who should Edgar choose to ally with: Kendal or Raoul?**_

 _ **Please let me know how you liked the chapter and any ships, friendships, alliances, fights, animosities, plotlines, etc. that you want to see! I'd love to hear your input!**_

 _ **Also, I'm updating the blog with updates about me and my writing and random stupid shit, and I'm still open for questions for this story if you have anything you want to ask the tributes! Don't be afraid to jump in and participate!**_

 _ **Thanks for reading! See you next time!**_


	22. Training Day 2, Part II

_-Amari, D6M-_

One thing I've learned about Demetria Dawn is that she's very unpredictable. Yesterday, she woke us up very gently and apologetically. Today, I wake up to her ripping the sheets off of me and shouting, "Up! It's time to get up!"

I groan, but sit up. She's in one of those batshit crazy moods today. I have to wonder why she goes back and forth so often. She's a Capitolite, though. Capitolites are absolutely _disgusting_ , of course. Hell, it's all Demetria Dawn's stupid fucking fault that I'm even here right now, and not back where I belong with Kyle and Lydia, and all my adoring peers!

But, now, she's my only stupid fucking hope to get sponsors, and I best not get on her bad side. I've learned from Poofy-Hair that if you're constantly angry and hateful, you'll never get anywhere in the Capitol. Poofy's been nothing but negative, and Demetria hates her. She likes me, though, because at least I hide my undying hatred of her behind a smiley veil.

I get dressed and brush my teeth, sighing disdainfully at my still-red-and-silver hair. I just want it to be black again. I wash my face and scrub my teeth and get dressed in my usual training outfit, groaning at how strange it is to wear a jumpsuit. I hope out Arena outfits aren't as weird as this. I go out to breakfast, where the mentors are sitting with Demetria. Poofy isn't out yet.

I sink in a seat next to my mentor Allocen. The Victor of the 71st Games, he's really my only hope. He won his Games by doing exactly what I wish I could do: he's like the stronger version of me. He talked the other tributes into trusting him and manipulated them to do exactly what he wanted with just words. He didn't do an ounce of work, not even in the finale. That poor girl from District 5 was already so tormented by what she had done, it was easy for the boy to convince her to take her own life. She was bloody, injured, and suffering already. He just had to finish the job for her. She gave into him and he won.

Of all the people to mentor me, I'm over the moon that it's him. He's a personality that I know very well, because it's eerily similar to mine. Since I'm not particularly strong or good at fighting, my charming, cunning, and words are going to be my biggest strengths. However, this is something much bigger than getting some nerd that thinks I'm hot to do my homework.

I've been asking Allocen to give me advice on how to sweet-talk people. I'm good at it, of course, but he's the _master_. This was a match made in heaven. He usually avoids Demetria when he can, but he talks about the Games like a fond memory, which is a bit off-putting. I'm in hell right now, the creeping thought that in a week I'll be in an Arena fighting for my life always there in the back of my mind. Poofy is stuck with the young and inexperienced Clara Revery. Allocen hasn't been much help to her, and Demetria is only a help every other day when she isn't hostile. Clara hates me, and she's made it known. It's because of some stupid grudge against someone in her Games who's _dead_ now.

"Amari, elbows off the table!" she scolds forcefully. She scowls at me.

Allocen promised me that he'd sway her. He's still working on her, slowly. He also promised that any sponsors she brought away from me, he'd manipulate them with his words and charm until he got them back. It's much easier because not only is Billie handicapped, but she also hasn't done much to win sponsors. It should be easy for Allocen to sweep in and get the sponsors back on the rightful side: mine.

Billie comes out and sits down. Clara turns to her fondly. "Ah, good morning my dear! How are you? You know, Sweetheart, a good way to beat that tired morning feeling is…."

I tune her out. I don't care about her stupid advice. I heard them talking the whole train ride, though, about who-knows-what.

"How has your training been going?" she asks, butting her head into where it doesn't belong.

"I don't have to talk about it," I say simply. "But your outfit today is so fashionable." Simple, but the compliments will hopefully get her to drop the grudge.

She makes a sour face at me, and we go back to our breakfast, not speaking at all.

"Not like either of you have a chance," says Demetria, annoyed. "A deaf and a little kid!"

"He's young," says Allocen, blatantly honest as always. "But he's got it in him. I had it in me, all those years ago." He sighs happily. "He's like a mini-me! I love him!" He ruffles my hair.

I give him a small grin. "You heard the man. I'm gonna win."

"As _if_! I'm going to ensure your death, you little shit!" Clara balls her fists.

Demetria starts to laugh, as if expecting a fight. She claps and cheers Clara on. I do everything I possibly can to hold back a scowl at them all. I keep the easy, carefree smile on that I always have. My mentor has faith in me, even though I'm one of the youngest here, and that's what matters. I have to keep telling myself that.

Allocen stands up. He's a pretty big dude, and I'm glad that he's got my back even if nobody else does. "C'mon Amari, let's go have some words before training." He pulls me into another room.

"Do you have some kind of cool new information?" I ask.

"No, but Clara will be itching to know everything that's going on," he says, making a slight face. "But still. Just remember, the weak will die, the strong will survive. Focus on surviving more than killing. After all, sometimes you can get through it all without having to kill at all," he says, that fond smile coming back on his face.

"Come on, let's get downstairs," he says, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I nod a bit and follow him into the elevator, Demetria and the girls in tow. We go downstairs and are among the first to be down there. I guess that Demetria just wanted us to be up earlier than everyone to suffer, I don't know. I hate her so much.

The other tributes gather, and after another brief lecture, we get released for our second day of training. Yesterday, I focused hard on survival and weapon skills, and today I need to focus on socializing. Obviously things aren't going to work out with Poofy, even if she was more pleasant, she's handicapped, and her mentor wants to spill my blood. I need to explore my options.

I want some allies, and have a strategy. I need someone close to my age, someone to charm. Someone pretty equal to me, who is pretty trustworthy. Someone for the long run, for sure. There's only one tribute my age, so that's an easy pick. Then, I'm going to look for an older tribute. Someone that'll protect us because they think we're cute, and will ultimately take the fall for us in a tight situation.

First, I have to go talk to Karima. She'd been talking with other people, but I need her to come with me. Sure, the girl is slightly pathetic, but I need someone who's weaker than me to be the easy target. I see her training hard with an axe, and honestly didn't expect her to be able to use it as well as she is. She seems to be simultaneously weaker and stronger than she should be. She's a little bit unsettling to me because I still haven't fully figured her out. I know that I can, I can figure anyone out. Some just take a little bit longer than others.

I notice her District partner paroozing around with the girl from District 10. I had seen him yesterday keeping a close eye on the younger girl, and had considered approaching him to get him to come with us. Unfortunately, something must've changed overnight, because today he doesn't even give a look over his shoulder.

I take another look around. The boy from 12 is training on knives. He looks pretty formidable, even though he's mute. I think I heard him talking somehow the other day, with whatever crazy Capitol technology they have now. I look at the girls. That girl from 4 seemed to like me at chariots, and I notice she's been eating separate from the typical Career pack.

I go to the girl from 8, her pregnant belly signaling that she might be compassionate to a couple of younger kids. She's at the medical station, listening to the trainer. I look at her and listen to what the trainer says.

"Hey there," I say. I wonder if she'll be immune to my flirting or not. Not a lot of people are immune to my charm.

"Hi," she says, focused on her work.

"Felicity, yeah?"

"That's right." She's pretty focused, but appears to like the attention.

"Tell me, what's such a pretty girl doing here by herself?" I ask, only half-focusing on the medical stuff.

"I'm focusing on survival," she says. "I have a lot on the line."

"I see." I don't think she's gonna do much for me.

The boys from 10 and 11 are spending a lot of time together. The girl from 7 talks with the Careers. The girl from 5 is mute and the boy is playing hanky panky with the 3 tributes. The boy from 7 has been talking to so many tributes, and besides, he's not too much older than me anyways. The boy from 8's messing with the Careers. The girl from 10 is with the boy from 9. The girl from 11's been quite solitary through this whole process, but she might be my only hope for a stronger decoy. The boy from 12 is another idea. The girl seems kind of soft, and she's been talking a bit to Karima as well.

I go to Martina first, where she uses a sword. I pick up the weapon and try to remember what I learned about it from the limited time I spent there yesterday.

"Hey there," I say, keeping confident eye contact, stomach turning at the synthetic color of her eyes.

"Hello," she says, before she practices slashing at the dummy.

"So, what's such a powerful, strong woman doing without anyone asking her to ally, huh?"

She puts her weapon down and gives me a glance. "I don't really know," she says.

"Well, wouldn't you want to have a couple of extra minds?"

"Possibly." She puts the sword up again and trains, and I start to train with her. I do a little fighting with a trainer, giving her glances. She seems pretty set in her ways. I thought maybe I could sway her to come with us, but I guess she's too focused on making it home.

"Sure you don't want some extra eyes? You're gonna have some long nights staying awake on watch," I say.

"I'm sorry, but allies aren't my style. I have one hell of a family waiting for me in District 11, and I'm not doing anything to put that in jeopardy. I can't afford to make strong bonds or connections."

"I respect that. It was a good talk anyways. I wish you the best of luck, Lovely Lady." Even if she's not allying with me, it's good to be one good terms with people. Just in case she may meet me later, maybe those words will stick.

They call us to go to lunch when I notice Karima on the climbing course. She is focused, still gripping that tiny bunny stuffed animal. The Careers are walking to lunch when she slips off of the course and hits the ground hard with a sharp whimper of pain.

Nautica from Eight is the first one to laugh, and soon all the Careers join as they walk to lunch together. I go over in the empty center to where she lays on the ground and notice that her lip is bleeding.

"Are you alright, Little Lady!?" I ask, coaxing her to sit up.

Her eyes, synthetically wheat-colored, fill with tears. I help her up to her feet and help her walk to the Capitol medical team on hand. They help her get situated, while I stay with her. I know that this is the best way to assure that she's going to ally with me. We get in and get some food on the tail-end of lunch.

"Thanks for helping me," she says quietly, "That was humiliating."

"Those Careers know nothing, Dear. They're just plain old mean, that's what they are."

"True," she sighs, spooning some food into her mouth weakly. I sit with her in a comfortable silence, and we don't talk. She's definitely weaker than I expected.

After lunch, we get back to it. Karima and I go from station to station together, and I notice her putting a lot of effort into her training. She starts a fire first with a confident grin of Victory. "See?" she says, "I can make fires faster than you can."

"Sure you can," I say eyebrow raising. When she puts her mind to things, or when she's feeling competitive I guess, she is good at what she does. By the end of the day, I'm back to being conflicted. She was weak on the climbing, and yet she was strong when she was trying to outdo me to prove herself. I know that allying with someone I don't completely get may not be good for me, but I have no other choice.

By the end of the day, I notice Wren talking with that girl from 4 pretty seriously, and they even do some training together. I realize that my only hope for an older buffer is gone, for now. I only hope that during the interviews or even on the first day I can sweet-talk someone into being our human shield.

We do have time, but it's starting to run out.

~.~.

 _-Wren, D12F-_

I twist my token around my wrist as I sit at the medical station. I watch the lady as she demonstrates how to make stitches, trying to visualize how to make them correctly. The friendship bracelet from Tansy and Emberly is rough rope, barely anything really, but it's friendship. It's home.

I've always wished that my name was something prettier than Wren. Wren is too boyish for my liking. "Birds can be feminine," my parents agreed. I don't know. I wish I wasn't named after a bird, I wish I had a prettier name, like the name of a flower. Tansy and Emberly have such pretty names. Then you have Wren. I dwell on it more than I should.

Now, though, I fiddle with the bracelet as the lady puts needles through the flesh. My stomach turns, picturing the smell and feeling of blood as she makes stitches. Next to me, Felicity watches. She releases us to start practicing, and my hand shakes slightly as I hold a needle to the fake flesh. I can't imagine how I would do this to real flesh, but I can't dwell on it too much.

I start to make shaky stitches, trying to stay focused on this and pretending it truly is life and death. Pretty soon I won't have to pretend.

Pretty soon, I get antsy with making stitches, worried that other people are watching. I decide that I should let my nerves calm and get back to it later. As I see the boy from 6 approaching, I decide to move on. I go to the axe station, looking around. When I get there, I see the little one from 9 working really hard. I admire Karima's ability to fight, she's really doing well.

I watch her. I wouldn't be opposed to allying with someone younger than me, because I think I can protect other tributes really well. However, I've also been talking to Serafina Anya, from 4. Not only did she volunteer, but she's also good with weapons. She'd definitely be better for me than a younger tribute that isn't as experienced. Serafina Anya knows how to play the game. She could be my best hope.

I train alongside Wren for a little, watching her and how fervently she trains. The dear girl still has her bunny tucked into the collar of her jumpsuit as she heaves the axe around. My heart breaks for her. Her chances are so slim, the dear. She must know it, too.

I watch her for a while, learning how to throw the axe from the instructor. I find that I'm actually not too bad at it, which is relieving. At least I have some kind of defense. Even if I can't make good stitches.

I sit at the knot station, watching where Serafina Anya climbs with her District partner, smiling and chattering at him. He just looks bored.

We've been talking on and off, and I really feel like we have a good chance at being a formidable force. I make a fire next to the boy from District 2, who's been pretty quiet this whole time. I guess he's like Leo, not getting to know anyone.

I think that having an ally, though it could come with some emotional pain, has more pros than cons. I can have safety and reassurance, and someone to be on watch for me. Sure, maybe we'll actually become friends, maybe something will happen. But ultimately, alliances can be the ultimate difference between life and death. If Serafina Anya knows more about berries than I do, or survival, or especially close-combat, where I fall short… That could save me. And I certainly have to get home. There's a lot riding on it. I have friends there, family… I twist the bracelet around as I sit next to the silent Vidarr and try to make some kind of noose or trap.

I look around for Leo, and notice him throwing knives. He's getting better and better, it seems. I sigh, wishing I had something I wasn't shabby-at-best at. Better to be mediocre at everything than exceptional at just one thing. Someone who is brilliant with swords could easily die by eating poisonous berries. Someone good with bows and arrows could easily die by an inability to make a fire. It's not assured that we're going to get weapons from the Cornucopia, so the survival stations are crucial because they provide us a way to survive off of what we have.

I spend some time at the camouflage station. When I'm there, I see Briella from District 7, painting with mud and smearing grass on her arm. She looks like she's not entirely focused, as if she's in thought. I wonder what's going through her mind, but don't say anything to her. She's been getting buddy-buddy with the Careers lately. I don't want to mess with her.

They release us for lunch, and I quickly find Serafina Anya eating and go to sit next to her. She looks up, smiling brightly at me. She ate alone yesterday, and looks like she wants to have a friend.

"Hey," I say, smiling at her.

"Hi there Wren," she says. "How are you? How's training?"

"Not too bad. I found out that I can catch onto throwing axes pretty well, which is good."

"Oh, yeah, for sure. I've just been exercising and hanging out. I don't want to show off too many of my skills." She glances over to where the Careers sit and talk as they eat. "I'm already too big of a target as it is. I shouldn't give anyone any other reason to target me."

"Oh. Yeah. I get that." I start to second-guess myself, knowing that she _is_ a target. What if the Careers find us and take us both out in one sweep!? I feel myself growing pale.

"Did you want to… I dunno, consider heading off together? I know we could do it! I know we could be a force to be reckoned with!"

"Oh…" I light up. "Sure!" I know that Serafina Anya is smart. And she has more skills than anyone will expect. What could go wrong? I smile at my new ally, and she returns it.

"So, tell me about yourself, a little bit. What're you fighting for?"

"Family. And friends. All my siblings and I were named after birds, based on the seasons we were born in. I was born in spring, and so was my sister Robyn. My brother Jay was a summer baby. My friends are named Tansy and Emberly. This friendship bracelet is from them." I show her over the table, and she nods. "How about you? Why did you volunteer?"

"I volunteered because the girl who was going to had to drop out. I didn't want to… I'm not a horrible person… Hence why I didn't join the Careers…" she gives them a glance, and when I look over, I catch Nautica's eye by mistake.

"Yeah. There are some crazy people over there. I'm glad my District partner Collin isn't going with them either. He's closed off and grumpy, though, and I don't think he likes me. But I like him. I think he's just misunderstood. He won't talk to me, though, so he's just going to be miserable. Oh well."

"I see."

"I have a sister that's older and a brother that's younger. My best friends' names are Sessa, Camilla, and Lowel. I want to get home to be alive, of course, but the fame and fortune isn't really a drawback either. I just have to make it through. But we can make it together."

I smile at her. "Very true. We can do it."

"That's the spirit, ally!" she beams at me, successfully bringing my spirits up.

"Let's divide and conquer, the two of us."

"Good plan."

We look up when Santana Villanueva sits down next to Serafina Anya.

"Afternoon girls," she greets. I shift, slightly uncomfortable at the gaze of the Capitolite on me.

"Oh, so good to see you Ms. Villanueva!" Serafina Anya says smoothly, giving her a relaxed smile.

"Hm. How has your training been going? I've noticed our volunteer hasn't done much so far. Your time is running out."

"I don't want to show off too much. A girl must keep her secrets," she says. I wish I felt as laidback about this as she did. It must be because not only is Serafina Anya so extroverted, she's also from a Career District. Their opinions of the Capitol are _much_ different than ours.

"Hm. Very true. How about you, Wren? Working on that survival?"

"Yes," I say, trying not to appear nervous or shy. "That's right."

"Hm. Interesting. That will do you good. I see there's a strong dynamic between you two?"

"Oh yes," smiles Serafina Anya. "It's kind of a secret, but Wren and I are going to ally together," she says. "I suppose people will figure it out, but I'm gonna keep it on the down-low if I can."

"Ah. I see. Understandable. Well, I wish you luck. Remember, you're already in the afternoon of your second day of training. Anything you've been putting off should be worked on by the end of the day. This is your last chance to learn how to survive, so use it wisely."

"Thank you, Ms. Villanueva!" says Serafina Anya.

I nod and add a much more timid, "Thanks."

She stands up and her huge, fake eyelashes flick over to give us each a last look. "Yes. And may the odds be ever in your favor." She pulls her clipboard to her chest and walks away, her wavy black ponytail bouncing behind her.

I breathe a sigh of relief when she's gone, and another when I find Diesel Bundren on the other side of the room from us. I know that the Head Gamemakers are evaluating our every word, every gesture, every expression. I don't think it's ever been this thorough an examination in the past, but it's absolutely nerve-wracking. If I say one word that they don't like, I'll be dead before I know it. If I do one thing that looks suspicious or questionable, anything but obedient, they'll have my head. I'll be shipped back home in a wooden box. It still hasn't totally sunk in yet.

"It's crazy, isn't it?" she asks. Her eyes look like she might want to say more, but she holds her tongue. I wonder what District 4 could've possibly done to have a volunteer so incredibly unconventional.

"Yeah, definitely."

"They never told me anything about any of this at the Academy. It's as big a surprise for us as it is for anyone else."

"Really? So it definitely must be new to this year." I hope it doesn't last. If I were a mentor, it would break my heart to have my tributes put through the wringer like this. Maybe it'll be a one-year thing. I guess it depends on what happens in the Arena, and how early President Snow is out of recovery and well again. By the way everyone's talking, it should be pretty soon. Not that any part of Capitol rule's been any weaker with Snow recovering. They couldn't afford that.

We finish our lunch, and I go thankfully back to the center. Serafina Anya and I don't talk for the rest of the afternoon, we go our separate ways and show off different skills. The afternoon goes by slowly and I go from station to station, trying to get as much information crammed into my head as possible. Any of these little things could save me in a dire situation.

That evening, I have dinner on the District 12 floor. Leo eats and doesn't talk.

"Have you found any allies?" I ask Leo, trying of conversation.

"I haven't focused on it," he says. Or, well, whatever thing he has in his brain that lets him communicate says.

"Ah."

"Have you?"

I backed myself into a corner. "I may've found one."

"Aren't you just _so_ helpful?" Haymitch slurs sarcastically.

"Haymitch!" Effie scolds, crossing her arms at him. Her pink lips form a scowl.

"Just saying," he shrugs.

"She's more helpful than you," Leo says. "You haven't given us any kind of advice at all."

"I did too! I told you, don't die. Plain and simple."

"Aren't you just so helpful?" Leo asks mockingly, rolling his eyes. I stifle a slight laugh. I would've laughed, if this weren't still a matter of life or death.

"Alright, alright," Haymitch snarls, but he doesn't stop drinking.

"Well, you are never going to ace your private training sessions tomorrow if you don't get your nutrients!" Effie says quickly, urging us to keep eating. The rest of the time is spent in an awkward silence. Effie tries to break it every once in a while, rambling on about posh Capitol stuff like her shoes and hair, and the galaxy fad that's spreading across the Capitol.

"Not everyone can pull off being the night sky," Effie says, glancing at her nails as if she's nervous she may have broken one.

Avoxes come and take our plates, and Leo and I sit on our hands to avoid thanking them. It's an instinct to thank someone when they do something for you. To have slaves like this is just… Heartbreaking and wrong. I hate it.

"Oh, yes, dessert! How wonderful!" Effie says, beaming and clapping her hands. I watch as they set out a pastry in front of us.

"Oh, French Apple Pie! This is only good with whipped cream! Avox, get us whipped cream to share!" A young woman nods and runs back to the kitchen.

"This is simply divine, you'll love it." She smiles expectantly as Avoxes come back with bowls of whipped cream, setting them by us. Effie digs in and Leo does so hesitantly after.

I get some of it on my fork and take some pie, putting it in my mouth after dipping it in the white, airy cream. The sweetness explodes on my tongue and fills my mouth with an explosion of deliciousness. I quickly take some more! I think this is by far my favorite thing that we've had. I continue to shovel the pie into my mouth, but only after dipping it in the whipped cream. The sweetness and tartness of the apples balances everything out. I finish my dessert and Leo lets me take the part of his that he doesn't eat. By the end, I'm full and much more satisfied than I had been at the start of dinner.

"Isn't that just wonderful?" Effie asks.

"Oh yes! It is!" I beam.

Effie perks up at receiving such an enthusiastic response. "I simply knew you would like it! If you were from one of those Career Districts, you wouldn't get dessert like that!"

I think of Serafina Anya, spending another night dessert-less. It must suck. Then again, being reaped into the Games where you could die with others that are much stronger and more trained than you also sucks. I think that sucks a little more.

"Right." I'm pulled back into reality from Apple Pie Land. I like Apple Pie Land much better, though. I like Apple Pie Land much better than I'm Going to Die Land. For sure.

"Now, you'll never do well in your private sessions tomorrow if you don't get plenty of rest! Showers and to bed now, both of you! I need my beauty sleep just like any other, of course," she says.

"You need a lot more beauty sleep than you're getting, Sweetheart," Haymitch says, sneering at Effie, who crosses her arms indignantly.

"I'm going to bed," Leo says. _To avoid getting a headache from their bickering,_ is the implied second half of the sentence. That's certainly what I'm thinking.

I nod and follow him to our compartments.

"Good night Leo," I say. He goes into his room without responding.

I shower and realize that the black is fading out of my hair. I rinse and rinse until it's mostly all out. However I think it's still just one shade darker than my actual blonde, though.

I feel much more like myself when I climb into bed that night, and ready to face my final day of training and private session tomorrow.

~.~.

 ** _A/N: Hi! I'm so sorry that it's taking so long for me to get into the Games. I'm officially on summer break now (FINALLY!) so hopefully I'll be able to laser out these last POVs before the Games begins. I hope you're enjoying the story anyways._**

 ** _Okay, so I have awesome news! With the summer, I've started a couple of totally new and awesome projects! First off, a collaboration story with my friend (WHAT?! Celtic has a FRIEND?! What IS this!?) Legend AKA Sinfonian Legend called Monochrome about the 27_** ** _th_** ** _Games. It's not an SYOT, BUT it's going to be one of the best stories on my profile, I just know it! I'm sooo excited about it, so if you want a read with some awesome OCs and some kickass character development, give it a read!_**

 ** _My OTHER project is another collab, this time with my other friend (Celtic has TWO FRIENDS?! WTF) Dreamer AKA HogwartsDreamer113 called Champion of Destruction. This one is another FULL SYOT that's going to be AWESOME! Also, it's smack-dab between this story and Dreamer's story about the 100_** ** _th_** ** _Games, so it'll have awesome elements from both in it! There will be lots of familiar faces from this story in that one, so check it out and please submit! Can't wait, hope to see you there!_**

 ** _I think that's all for now. OH NO IT'S NOT. My OTHER friend (look at all my friends people!) Kate AKA Kate-The-Great-And-Powerful is starting a partial SYOT called Luetis and needs tributes! If you like to make characters and want to see them written amazingly, consider sending them a tribute or two!_**

 ** _And myself and my OTHER friend Jess are also gonna do a collab for the 47_** ** _th_** ** _Games, so watch out for that sometime in the future! I am super excited for all these awesome projects! But I won't be neglecting this one. I wanna push through these last pre-Games chapters and get to the fun!_**

 ** _Now that's ACTUALLY all. Please review and tell me what you think, and let me know if you have any requests for things that you want to see more of! Remember, you're acquiring sponsor points that you can use for your tributes when we get to Arena time!_**

 ** _Chapter Question: Which alliance presented so far do you think will fall first? Which do you think will be the strongest? (Alliances: Iridesce/Callum/Maggie/Nautica/Riella OR Maggie/Riella OR Iridesce/Callum/Maggie/Nautica with Riella on her own, Cyra/Ductor/Hamilton, Vidarr/Collin, Amari/Karima, Serafina Anya/Wren, Kendal/Edgard OR Raoul/Edgard)_**

 ** _Wow, that was one HUGE A/N. If you actually read it all, kudos to you! I hope you submit some tributes to the awesome stories mentioned above and give Monochrome some lovin'!_**


	23. Training, Day 3: Private Sessions

_-Billie, D6F-_

Demetria is all sweet and kind that morning. It makes me absolutely sick, how she acts so sweet to us one day and then acts horrible to us another day. She just wants to see us dead, she doesn't care if we win as long as we die gruesomely. It's sick, how she's like this. I hate it, I hate her. I hate the Capitol, and I hate the Games. And yet, I'm here.

Amari and I don't get along well at all. He impersonates me and mocks me. He's generally just rude and horrible! I can't believe him, really. I could've had an ally, really, if _anyone_ had made any effort to talk to me! I don't need allies, though. I really don't.

My mentor Clara is much better. She was quick to answer any questions I threw at her, and she's on my side through and through, no matter how that little shit Amari tries to sweet-talk her or anyone! She wants me to win and she wants me to kick ass. She believes in me even though I'm deaf, which I need.

We eat breakfast, all of us quiet and awkward. Clara gives Amari an icy glare, and Demetria looks to be chatting cheerfully, but I can't hear her- (good). I eat quietly, glancing up every once in a while but ultimately ignoring the others.

We have private training sessions today. I have to perform unlike I ever have before. If I don't get a good score, nobody will take me seriously. I need someone to take us seriously. I need sponsors, I need the Capitol to take me seriously. Which means that I have to do well.

We go down the elevator without a word. Nobody is on it today, which is a relief. I hate being surrounded by people, it just makes me anxious. I try to remember Clara's advice, to relax and do my best, show off. Keep a cool head. I sigh a bit, the nerves swirling around my stomach like butterflies.

I just want to go home. I don't want to kill, but if that's what it takes, I'll have to. I have to get back to Mirabel. No matter what kinds of stupid arguments we have, she's still my sister and I love her. Lucie and Blossom, my friends. I have to get home to them. Without me, there will always be a missing piece, I know it. That's just the kind of bond we have.

We all sit in a dimly lit room. The environment only increases my nerves, looking so dramatic and technological. I wonder if that was its purpose. I bounce my legs, my hands fidgeting and aching for something to do. I don't like to sit still, and always come up with ways to use my time. Now, though, I'm trapped. No shenanigans here. One misstep and you're out before you even know you're dead.

I wish I had a token, something I could mess with. Something that could entertain me. But no, I just have to sit here and watch the others, some of them talking or huddled together, some of them sitting alone, some of them using their good old defense mechanisms: curling up into a ball, holding their head between their knees, biting their lip and quivering. I just sit and watch with a blank face as the tributes go one by one into the room to show off their skills.

First is Callum, who, though he's from 1, seems very anxious for his session. His hair is finally back to its natural blond, and he walks into the room trying to fake confidence. Time passes, and then Iridesce perks up, I assume as her name is called, and goes. I try not to imagine what she's doing in there.

After Iridesce, Vidarr goes in, from where he was sitting and talking to the boy from 4. Maggie goes in after, her head held high. She means business.

After her, Ductor from 3. His District partner taps him on the shoulder, and I remember that he's deaf, like me. I wonder if he'll talk about it during interviews. Or, sign about it. I see his lips move, but I don't know if he's talking or just mouthing. I wish I knew. Oh, how I wish I wasn't deaf. After a bit, Cyra gets up. After seeing her hair black and silver for so long, it's odd to see her blonde.

Collin from 4 goes next, not looking any other tribute in the eye. After, Serafina Anya gets up and offers the other tributes a smile, radiating confidence.

Then Hamilton, who quivers with nerves. I notice he was curled up into a ball earlier after his allies both left. His District partner sat with him and stroked his hair reassuringly. How sweet. I wonder how long it'll take for them to turn on each other. His District partner, the mute one, goes after him. Cory, I think. I always mess her up because her name's more commonly used for boys.

Then, Amari goes in. I watch him saunter in, giving his ally from 9 a wide grin and finger guns before going into the room. I realize that I'm not going to hear them when they say my name, and my chest tightens with nerves.

Suddenly, the seconds start to take forever. It feels like a year has passed and nothing happens. I see the others perk up, some of them glancing straight at me, and assume my name has been called. I stand up, remaining calm, and walk through the doors into the Training Center.

Clara told me to expect anything when I walked through those doors. Sometimes the committee is still paying attention to District 6, and sometimes they're bored. I can't see very well and can't hear if there are any conversations happening, but the co-Head Gamemakers are still sitting just as they were the first day: Santana Villanueva with her clipboard and a judgmental bitch-face, and Diesel Bundren draped over the railing, a look of excitement and interest on his face.

I take a deep breath and walk to the hand-to-hand combat station. I found during training that I was good at fighting, and nod at a Trainer, symbolizing the start of a fight. The Trainer is a woman with ashen skin and a dark ponytail. I go through my mind for the advice I'd gotten from the trainers.

In the second of my nerves, the trainer attacks first, her fist swiftly coursing at me. I duck below her, my mind rushing to figure out what to do. I avoid her leg kicking up to my face and continue to dodge her punches, swift and offensive. I would rather not be on defense, but I know that the Gamemakers will want to see it all, so I continue to fight. I dodge her swift swipes, staying on the balls of my feet.

She throws a punch and I crouch to avoid the punch and then lunge my entire weight forwards, ramming straight into her knees and sending her tumbling backwards. I scramble to get on top but she's quick to get back on her feet. Now, though, I have control of the fight.

I clench my fists and bounce on the balls of my feet, swiftly moving closer and bringing my fists around in quick, swift attacks. It makes contact with her face, and then in the second she loses her balance, I grab her by the shoulders and use my weight to throw the both of us onto the floor. She quickly strikes back, though, wrenching her arm out of my inexperienced grip and throwing a punch that I dodge, and she uses the change of weight to slam me into the ground and pin me the proper way, drawing what I think is a groan from me as I've lost control.

The second fight, I take control, springing into the offensive. I use strategy along with any of the strength I can muster against her, and this time easily subdue her. She lies on the ground and looks slightly stunned. I challenge her again, ready to win two out of three. I might get a little bit over the top with the fighting, seeing as the trainer drops out, clutching her nose, after our final fight. I smirk, feeling much more comfortable as I walk to the climbing station.

I start on my way up the bars, scurrying quickly up. I don't know if I'm quiet, which is my ultimate weakness. I feel like I'm being quiet, though, and sneaky, so I keep on doing what I'm doing. I get higher and higher, until I can see the whole Center from a bird's eye view. I jump back down, being as agile as I can, and give a small bow in conclusion before quickly ducking out of the room.

I feel nothing but relief when my private session is over. Phew, I can finally breathe again. Amari smiles and waves at me, but I can see right through him. He's just a schmoozer, Clara's right.

I sigh quietly, thinking about my sister Mirabel at home, who was always there for me even when our parents were out working. My friends, who went out and caused chaos with me… They need me to get back. I need to keep living, I need to get back.

I sigh and hope that I scored high enough that some sponsors look my way.

~.~.

 _-Rachel, D10F-_

Eleanor, our escort, is very friendly and motherly, slightly. She watches us, making sure neither myself nor Raoul has our elbows on the table, making sure we eat healthily, blah blah blah. It really is appreciated… But, still really annoying.

We all eat quietly. Zander Smith, Raoul's mentor, eats and stares at us in a tense silence, before he gets up, fairly quickly. He's always been coming up with excuses to escape us, especially Eleanor. He can't stand our escort, though it's known that she's his only granddaughter. He must hate the Capitol side of her, because honestly, what self-respecting District 10 citizen wouldn't?

"Well, you have private sessions today, so I'm gonna have a smoke," he says, getting up and avoiding looking at the young woman. "Raoul?" he gives my District partner a look. Raoul quickly stands up, nodding in agreement.

I remember when they first came into our train car and Raoul practically shit his pants he was so intimidated. My District partner's definitely bucked up a bit. I mean, he tripped up onto the stage, which still gives me a good laugh. Now he's seemed to calm down, become more comfortable. Maybe he has a chance now.

My mentor, Aleah Meyers, is much more serious. She got straight to business to give me a strategy and give me Games advice, which I appreciated a lot. We don't have any kind of personal relationship, but we don't really need to. The 69th Victor and I are left alone with Eleanor, who is still concerned for my welfare and Raoul's.

"So, you said you found an ally?"

"Yeah. That boy from 9." I take a sip of hot chocolate, enjoying the smooth, deep taste of chocolate in my mouth. I have to say, of all the food I've had here, the hot chocolate I've had every morning is definitely the best. Way better than the orange juice I tried, "a much healthier alternative," according to Aleah and Eleanor. No. It just sucks. Orange juice sucks balls. Hot chocolate is the good shit, that's where it's at.

"That's good. I'm sure a lot of people were watching you, huh? Because you volunteered?"

"Eh," I shrug. "He was the one that stood out. He's an orphan like me, and we relate on a lot of things-"

"Rachel, you do know that only one of you can come out, right?"

"Of course." I do know it.

"Allies are only good if you use them for what they're worth and then pick them off. That's how it works. You're in the Hunger Games, not a fairytale. You know that of course, don't you, volunteer?"

"Yeah. I know." So maybe she's right. I sip the hot chocolate. She's certainly adamant about her strategy, though. Little does she know that I have a strategy of my own. I haven't told her everything, of course. She knows I didn't tell her everything. We're both strong-willed people, so we've butted heads a lot.

"What if allies become friends?"

"You have to prevent that from happening."

"Why?"

"Losing an ally you were friends with just brings more pain. It'll ruin you. If you want to win, they have to die."

"Right. What's so wrong with dying for them, though?"

"If you want to die, you're kind of crazy."

I sigh a bit. "Hm." I don't take it any further, knowing that she won't budge on her mindset and there's no way in hell I'm budging on mine. I just sip my hot chocolate in peace. I'm glad that my hair has gone back to its natural black. It's certainly more calming to look around you and see people. Before we all just looked like Capitolites, who I consider sub-human. I can't believe I was one of them. I would've tried to jump off the side of the Justice Building rather than even _look_ like one of them. Disgusting Capitol scum.

I tug uncomfortably on my jumpsuit, looking at the red number 10 written across the chest. I feel ready for this, really. It's almost unnerving, how ready I feel. Raoul and Zander come back, and we get on the elevator to go down to the ground floor. The view from the 10th floor is disgustingly commercial and not natural at all. The Capitol is just damn unnatural.

The room is lit eerily, and I sit with Kade. The tributes are getting pretty nervous about this. A lot of them look around nervously. Hamilton from District 5 has his head between his knees, his District partner sitting with him and looking scared. Those poor dears.

I don't see Raoul at first, but then I see him talking to Edgard for a bit. I wonder if they're going to ally or not. Zander and Aleah are both so serious that they immediately insisted we separate, so I know nothing about his strategy at all. My own District partner, and I don't have any kind of advantage over him. Also, I don't even know him that well. I suppose, as Aleah said, that's better. So maybe she's right sometimes.

"Hey," Kade says. "How are you? Nervous?"

"No," I say. "I'm nervous because I'm not nervous, actually." I laugh and he does too. I can tell he's nervous, but that broke some of the tension. I think he needs a good laugh sometimes. I take a mental note.

"Ah. I wish I could say the same, but… This is important." The importance of sponsors can't be denied. Sure, I mean, you can do well without them, you can win without them, even, but if you get in a situation, sponsors are like a security blanket. They can send you what you need. They can be the difference between life and death, if it comes to that.

"Yeah, it is. But I know that you could win without sponsors, Doll."

He laughs. "Thanks, so could you. But I'm sure people are already going to sponsor you just because you volunteered."

"You never know," I say, "I could get a 2 and then I'd be brushed off."

He laughs. "I think you can do better than 2."

"Do you?"

"Sure. I've seen you training. You can do it."

I smile sweetly at him. "Aw, thanks."

I glance around.

"It's kicking!" Felicity screams. "IT'S KICKING!" everyone looks up but the two deaf tributes, who are lucky in this situation I think because she's _shrieking_. I cover my ears as Felicity screams about how "IT'S KICKING ME! EVERYONE!"

Nobody really pays attention. Kade and Kendal and a couple of the others just say "Nice," to make her feel better as she takes Cyra's hand and puts it on her swollen belly, talking quite loudly about how "it's kicking what a miracle!"

I sigh and go back to Kade, who gave a glance to his District partner Karima when nobody is looking. One by one, the tributes are called into the Training Center. Before Hamilton's turn, we hear him quivering and whimpering, as if on the verge of a panic attack. His District partner helps him, and Kade's face falls at the pitiful boy. He really has a big heart, probably too big for the Games.

Kendal gives the room a last glance over, maybe trying to strategize who's sitting together and who's talking to who, before he gives a kind of awkward nod, probably noticing he's being watched, before going in, his shoulders going up in a calm deep breath as he goes. Riella gets up quickly, glad to hear her name called after being left with Nautica from District 8, the only two Careers from the outer District. That kid has a weird air around him. Kade and I have a hushed conversation about completely random shit under our breath, the tension in the room still high.

After that, Nautica is called, and looks around the room, a smirk on his face, before he goes to his private session. I wonder what he's up to. Felicity goes after, deflated at the lackluster reaction to her news, going into the training center. Kade's blue-green eyes look around the room nervously, knowing that his time is next. I'm sitting close to him and can feel his temperature heating up from the nerves. He starts to bounce his leg nervously as the time goes. I can feel the nerves radiating off of him.

"Hey, no worries," I say, gently patting his hand reassuringly. "You'll make it."

"Alright…" he nods a little bit, biting his lip as the voice calls, "Kade Fields, District 9."

"You've got this. Show them why they shouldn't mess with you, Doll. Best of luck." I give him a wink and blow a kiss teasingly, causing him to laugh a little bit as he goes out to the Center.

I look around at the tributes that are left. Kade's District partner just looks awkward, not knowing what to do now that her ally is gone. Raoul sits with Edgard, but they must've run out of things to talk about because they're both quiet. Martina is sitting by herself, taking deep breaths. Leo and Wren sit by themselves, too, not knowing what to do.

The silence is palpable, practically. They call Karima next, who scurries off quickly. Still silence, for a very long and very awkward time. Then, they call Raoul, who gives Edgard a nod before going off into the Training Center. While Raoul's training, Wren sneezes, causing all of us to jump. A couple of half-hearted "bless you"s are muttered.

I feel relieved when I hear the voice say "Rachel Turner, District 10," and quickly get up, going into the Training Center. I see the Head Gamemakers there, still watching just as intently as they had been all through training.

I go to the sword station, taking a deep breath. I did limited stuff with swords, avoiding it in favor of the more important survival stations, but I know how to wave them around. The sword here is much lighter and very much nicer than the one I had, as well as very much sharper instead of the rusty, blunt end I'd had before. It takes a bit of time for me to find my footing and my balance. Once I do, though, those dummies don't stand a chance. First, I fight with the frozen people, to get a feel for the weapon. I know the spots to hit, just above the heart, neck, stomach, exactly where to hit the dummy. I am rewarded with fake blood, which doesn't sound like a great reward (it isn't).

I then move on to a trainer waiting, trading the deadly sharp sword for a blunter one as we spar. She's a much better fighter than people back at time, and subdues me at first, causing me to scramble backwards. The second time, though, I start to analyze her attacks as I dodge. I realize that she's only jabbing at the deadly places, and calculate my strategy accordingly. I use what very little I know about blade work to deflect her attacks, then jab at her weapon arm, causing her to drop the weapon. I go in for the attack with a clean "stab" through her chest. I know I've won, and smile in victory. I continue to spar until I feel like my point has been made, losing a few battles but getting right back up to fight again and win. By the end, I've won five times and lost 3, which I'd say's not bad for a girl from District 10.

I give the Gamemakers a last little salute before I walk out of the center.

~.~.

 _-Martina, D11F-_

Delicia isn't very nice about waking us up in the morning. She just bangs on the door and then goes out to eat her breakfast. The woman only sees us as inconveniences anyways. I sigh and get out of bed. Today is the day that I can prove her and anyone else that doubts my District wrong.

I get up, relieved to see the girl in the mirror that I recognize again. My wide brown eyes, black hair and eyebrows… Phew. I'm glad my reflection is me again, because it certainly wasn't before. I brush my teeth and change into the Training suit. It's pretty comfortable, and I'd be fine wearing it into the Games. But, I'm sure the Arena is going to be much more complicated than just a Training Center.

I go out for breakfast and see my team sitting around. I take a mug of hot chocolate and sip some of it, enjoying the taste. Delicia talks about her newest style: a dress covered in raspberries- ("custom made, just for me!"), eggplant earrings ("healthy is the new bold!"), and many assorted hairclips with various desserts on them, her plump little arms waving excitedly as if she's telling this story to herself. It seems she's only interested in her. Her green-tinted skin and bright yellow hair clash, and she wears bright green contacts, that match her bright green lips. She talks on and on and on, seemingly forever.

Donavan, Edgar's mentor, just looks bored. He doesn't look amused with Delicia's antics, as she goes on and on ranting about how the young ones got put in the higher Districts just because they're young and blah blah blah fuck you Diesel Bundren blah blah blah. I tune her out, instead daydreaming about Jackson, my boyfriend, who I need to get back to. Not to mention my family. I get lost in my daydreams of my boyfriend, snapping out of that only after Chaff hits me on the back.

"Huh?"

"Edgard and Donavan went for more strategy talk," he says, "I think they were just sick of hearing Delicia talk."

"Hey! You're one to talk, rat! You can't even do anything but drink anyways!"

"Well I'm here mentoring while you're just going on and on about yourself! At least _someone_ here's fighting for their tribute!"

"I wouldn't fight for tributes from District 11! Insects!" she looks at me, a condescending look in her eyes. I keep a smile on, trying to be patient with her. If I fight back, she'll only use it against me. Trust me, growing up with a lot of siblings, I know stuff like this. She acts just like my little brother Trey, or my five-year-old sister Marlene, when they're in a bad mood. And she's just as loud as my nephew Demarcus. And he's not even one year old. I laugh at this thought but immediately regret it, as she turns to face me, her little green face scrunched up in a scowl.

"What's so funny!?" she asks, the rage practically palpable.

"Nothing," I say, trying to stop laughing. She's such a baby. She quickly leaves, going to find the others.

"You were thinking mean things about her," Chaff says, grinning.

"It's impossible not to," I say, shrugging.

"You have heart, I'll give you that." He claps me on the shoulder.

"Of course I do. I have so much I need to get home for."

"I admire it."

I'm pretty sure we've had this conversation before, almost exactly, but I don't say anything. Chaff is to the point where he's so addicted to alcohol that he can't put it down for the Games, but he's the same with or without it, I suppose.

If I win, District 11 will finally have a Victor that is competent, and we need one of those. Chaff is barely confident because of his addiction, and Donavan is too overbearing, and his Games still haunt him. I don't doubt that the Games will haunt me, I really don't, but my support system is so strong that I can't imagine I would turn to a life of alcohol. I wouldn't dream of doing that to myself.

"We should be getting down there for your private sessions," Chaff says, getting up. "Let's go, Sugar."

"Don't call me Sugar." We've definitely had this conversation before. I board the elevator with Chaff and Delicia, Donavan and Edgard. There's an eerie awkward silence as we go down to the Training Center. They escort all of the tributes to a room and make us sit as a mechanical voice announces that it's Callum's turn to go to his private session.

This is one of the reasons why being from District 11 is not ideal. I have to sit and wait here for all of them to go. I know it's going to be a long wait, and I don't have anyone to talk to. Hamilton is curled up and quivering, and I feel a part of me aching to go over and help him. I hold my place, though. He's not Trey, this is the Games. I have to get home to Trey, so that I can console him. To do that, every single person in this room, and one out of it, will have to die. I look around at the faces and feel a ball of nerves flying around in my stomach. I don't want to kill. I'm going to have to, but I don't want to.

And yet, here we are. Everyone in this room is trained to kill, including me. We've all been trained. We've learned how to survive and how to fight. We've learned how to hurt people, in the name of self-defense, in the name of getting home. It's sick. I'm officially a trained killer. We all are.

I watch as each tribute goes into their training session, wondering what they'll do as they go. Iridesce is called, and I know she must be showing off her weapons skills. Vidarr goes after. Even though he was reaped, I'm sure he's trained. Surely District 2 wouldn't send somebody with no experience into the Arena.

Suddenly, Felicity starts shrieking, causing all of us to look up.

"It's KICKING!" she shouts it over and over again. She takes Cyra's hand and guides it to her stomach, the girl from Three's eyes widening in surprise at not expecting to be grabbed.

Maggie looks relieved when the voice says her name, and quickly leaves. I'm sure showing off her weapons skills is probably much better in her eyes than sitting here with a girl celebrating new life that's going to have to die if we want to live. Felicity stops being so excited when the rest of us go back to staring at the floor.

Some of the tributes are having hushed conversations, trying to distract themselves from the inevitable private session and the horror of what they're really doing. I just sit quietly, trying not to let my mind wander too much. I don't want to be distracted during my private session.

After that fiasco, Ductor goes in, probably doing stuff with survival that he picked up. Cyra follows, giving one last concerned look at Hamilton over her shoulder. Collin surely is trained as well, going in and looking pretty confident. Serafina Anya. Then, in goes Hamilton, quivering and pale. After him goes Cory, her face betraying her nerves and fear.

After that, Amari goes, and he gives us all a confident smile before doing so. The girl from 9 is left alone, clutching her little stuffed bunny for dear life. _She's not Marlene,_ I have to keep reminding myself. _She's some girl that is a stranger that has to die for me to get back to Marlene._ Even so, the resemblance is striking. Not in appearance, of course, this girl has pale skin and is much older than the 5-year-old, but in posture and expression, she matches my sister exactly.

I quickly look away, trying to rid myself of the thought. I have to keep on fighting, I have to take lives, but I have to get home. My family and Jackson will be waiting for me there.

Billie goes next, her face determined. After her, Kendal, who looks like he's really trying to keep a straight face and hide the nerves. Then, Riella. She gets up quickly as soon as she hears the first syllable of her name, her eyes betraying a kind of discomfort or fear at Nautica before her face sets again. She seems calm as she goes into the center. After her goes Nautica, giving us all one last smirk before going to his session. Felicity goes next, seeming nervous.

Kade says goodbye to the girl from 10, who makes him laugh with a flirty wink and kiss-blow, seeming to release the nerves. Karima goes next, putting her bunny in her pocket and putting on a brave face. After her goes Raoul, seeming pretty nervous but keeping his composure.

Edgard gives Raoul a nod. I've seen them talking a lot lately, I think they're allied. I wouldn't know, though, we've been pretty separate this whole time. I know that Edgard was interested in allying with him, though.

When he's in there, we're all sitting around and then Wren sneezes, causing me to jump a little bit. I mutter "bless you," and so do a couple of others, though I'm not sure why we would want a girl that has to die for us to live to be "blessed." It just seemed like the right thing to do.

Then, Rachel goes, giving the room one last look around before moving confidently to her session, black ponytail bouncing behind her. Of course she'd be confident, she volunteered.

The remaining four tributes all exchange glances. I can tell by how Edgard shifts that he's not only really nervous about his private session, but he's also very uncomfortable with the awkward silence that's washed over the room. Nobody is talking, it's dead silent.

"Edgard Lowell. District 11." He quickly gets up and doesn't look behind him as he hurries to the Training Center. The Twelve tributes accidentally exchange a glance and both look away at the awkward eye contact. I feel nothing but relief when the voice beckons for me.

I go into the room and don't know what to do. I see the Gamemakers watching me interestedly and freeze. Part of me was hoping that they'd be bored by now.

I go over to the sword station, picking up a blunt weapon and challenging the trainer to a fight. I wave the weapon around clumsily, but soon am subdued by the woman. I spent so much time on berries, but I can't just do berries for a private session. That's the first way to be deemed as another 11 Bloodbath that only knows berries!

I do another fight, and lose again, but this time narrowly. I decide to leave it before I dig myself into a deeper trench, trying to find something I can do to show off. The silence in the room is even more awkward than the silence in the tribute room.

I decide to do some climbing, doing my best to reach the ceiling. I make it a ways up, and pretty quietly, but don't quite reach the top. I think that they made it impossible on purpose, though. After that, I quickly scurry to the station for hand-to-hand, grabbing some spiked knuckles and doing my best to beat up a punching bag. I put everything I am into it, knowing that I need sponsors. I grunt with the effort as I beat up the punching bag, using everything I've ever learned about fighting from my older brother Tristan. Even if it was playful back then, it's the difference between life and death now.

I stop when I realize this must've taken forever. It feels like I've been in my private session for half an hour, maybe more. I don't know if that's really the case, but since it feels like forever I awkwardly put the knuckles back and quickly leave, unable to deal with the awkward silence any longer.

"That was short," Rachel comments when I get back, causing me to facepalm, frustrated with myself. I know that it was really important to get better with berries, though. I'm colorblind, and need to know the anatomy and structure of edible berries. I am a master at identification now, without having to know colors. But part of me wishes I had thrown caution to the wind and picked up a weapon, truly picked up a weapon. It's too late now, though.

I guess I'll just have to wait for my score to see.

 _ **A/N: I'm sorry for the cliffhanger! I hope to get the next chapter out really soon! Because I just have to write scores, another Diesel POV, Interviews, and maybe a night before the Games from a Capitolite POV, and then we're FINALLY in the Arena. Phew, we're on the home stretch! I'm sorry it's taking so long to work up to the Games. I didn't think doing all 24 POVs twice would be so taxing (I'm kind of optimistic about my writing workload sometimes :P) but yeah it's a lot. I hope this allows you to get to know the tributes better, though, and appreciate them all more.**_

 _ **Also, I had 2 SYOTs quit on me in one week, and I'm just saying that I REFUSE to quit this one. I get SO pissed when people do that. In fact, when people discontinue their SYOTs, I get a fire under my ass to update this one just to spite those people even though they're not following this story or anything XD I don't know, it's weird. But it's also the reason I wrote a 5500 word chapter in like two days. It'll be nice to write something that isn't training, though.**_

 _ **Also, my collab for the 96**_ _ **th**_ _ **Games is still in dire need of tributes! Please, give it a read and submit! Dreamer and I aren't going to give up, and we're going to update fairly regularly, unlike a lot of SYOTs you'll come across! We're both experienced with SYOTs and have both finished partial SYOTs. I promise you it'll be really awesome, please submit to that! It's got a lot of familiar faces from this story in it and I just know you'll like it if you read!**_

 _ **Okay, I think that's all I have to say. Hopefully I can get the next chapter out within this week (but life's hectic, so no promises). As always, let me know if you have any requests for plotlines, interactions, or anything of the sort!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Out of the three POVs, which do you think got the highest score and why? What's your estimate for each of their scores? I'm sorry these are so lame, I suck at coming up with them. As we go into the Games they'll get better.**_


	24. Training Scores

_-Nautica, D8M-_

Jessamine Di' Whatever-The-Fuck-Her-Name-Is is a crazy bitch. She's also a creepy-ass bitch. She has a weird squeaky disgusting voice and a giggle that's even fucking worse. I could win her over if I wanted, she's so fucking self-obsessed all the damn time and really if I wanted to compliment her till she passed out from fanning herself and laughing, I could. But that'd be too disgusting, really. Her giggle is even more annoying than her normal voice.

She sits now and talks about some shit she learned "in escorting school!" I can't help but think about all the shit that we could accomplish if only we weren't left to die in the damn Games and forced to crime to survive. Trying to rob things from other people that have nothing. While these people get surgery so they can look like fucking dolls that I could smash off the edge of a table and shatter in half. What the fuck!?

She keeps talking about all her stupid fucking accomplishments, why she was so qualified for the job, blah blah blah. I watch the screen, flashbacks from the Games past, while Bubblegum Man and the stupid fucking Golden Girl talk and talk and fucking talk. All I care about right now is training scores.

My mentor is Jute Silk, a man that is too happy-go-lucky for my taste. He was a slums kid, but he wasn't a true slums kid. Slums kids are desperate to get their fingers on something, some kind of money, _anything_ to keep on living. He goes around and acts like he's some kind of saint because he gave my best friend Ralph a nice suit coat and gave me a tie last year. Great, Jute Silk, thanks for giving me nice clothes so I can look handsome while I'm walking towards my death. Thanks. You're great. Meanwhile people are starving.

He glances worriedly at Felicity. He's incredibly uncomfortable around her, and I think that he's rooting for her more than he is for his own tribute because she's pregnant, just like his wife is at home. He thinks he's so fucking great. He really wanted to mentor the girl, but Carissa Kempton, one of District 8's oldest living Victors, insisted on taking her because she's more experienced. Save the pregnant bitch, sure. I need their advice and they've been focused on her. So what if she's pregnant? Some people have stuff to return to that's just as important as a baby that's not even been born yet.

Jute really did try to help me. His advice to me was just to keep on telling myself I'm going to make it, then nothing will stop me. Not much about getting sponsors and that shit, but I guess that's what tomorrow's going to be like.

Carissa, who won the 30th Games a long time ago, takes a seat on the back of the couch after we'd all eaten dinner together. The old lady looks kind of crazy sitting there, and Jessamine squeaks in a way that sounds like a hiccup as she quickly goes over and starts to protest.

"Ms. Kempton! Please! You'll surely break a hip if you do that!"

"I've done it every other year," she says simply. Jute goes over, and soon the pregnant bitch follows and I go last.

"Ms. Kempton!" Jessamine practically _idolizes_ the stupid Victors. She loves to chastise us like we're fucking babies, but when it comes to the Victors, she can't even tell them to sit on the couch the right way without getting all worked up. "Please! You'll ruin the furniture!"

"Too late." The old lady shifts ever-so-slightly on the back of the couch where she sits but ultimately doesn't move.

"Please!"

"I'm already here, though. Now, won't you just sit?"

"They're going to start soon!" outbursts Felicity, quickly sitting down. "We need to see how I scored!"

"Oh yes! I'm sure you both did lovely. Come on now, Nautica."

Felicity sits, but soon gets up and moves after not being able to get comfortable. She sprawls out on the couch, half laying on Carissa's feet, who kicks out lightly to make room, causing Felicity to curl up some more so she's not touching the old mentor at all. Carissa looks pretty fucking smug up there, Jessamine giving her and the precious couch nervous looks. I don't want to sit next to Jute or Jessamine, so I sit on the floor back against the couch.

"The couch!" Jessamine despairs at seeing Carissa's feet, still in shoes, sitting on the cushion.

"For Christ's sake, woman, if you love the couch so much why don't you make love to it!?" I outburst, annoyed at her.

The others look stunned.

"I would never-!"

"Yeah yeah, because then you'd get it dirty when you-"

Felicity cuts me off before I can say anything too perverted, bringing the attention back to her as always. "My baby's kicking! It kicked today before my private session, it was so cute! Cyra from 3 was just dying to feel it so I wore down and let her!"

The mentors exchange a look and I mock-gag. Honest to God, this girl is nuts.

"Oh, I'd like to feel if the baby kicks again!" Jessamine says.

"Of _course_ you would," I say, rolling my eyes at them in disgust. "I wouldn't put it below you."

"It's getting so big," Felicity says.

"You really shouldn't call your unborn child an _it_ ," says Carissa from the top of the couch.

Felicity doesn't look bothered, though. "We don't know what it is."

"You can use a gender-neutral pronoun like they, then," Carissa says, gently chastising like a grandmother would, if I had any idea what actual grandmothers did. "But children are not to be reduced to the same status as objects. This is your baby, after all." She speaks firmly and directly. I wish this grandma was my mentor, and not fucking Jute Silk who keeps trying to make me laugh and be genuine and that shit. I can't be genuine now. This is a fight to the death!

Felicity pouts, but the conversation ends when the Capitolites segue into the announcing of training scores.

"Well, it's surely a lovely night in the Capitol, is it not?" Bubblegum Man asks, a stupid smile on his face.

"Oh, definitely," replies Golden Girl, "Which makes the unveiling of training scores that much more exciting! Everyone raise your glasses, let's take a look at our tributes and their scores right now!"

Bubblegum Man clears his throat before announcing the first name.

"Callum Ainsworth, District One. Score of… Eight." I'm surprised he pulled it off. It certainly took a lot of work. I wonder if the Gamemakers took into consideration that if he got a shitty score he'd be kicked out of the Career pack.

"Iridesce Eurian, District One. Score of… Nine." I knew the District 1 bitch was going to score high. She's absolutely ruthless, and trained well. Compared to most of these guys, and the other so-called Careers, she must've looked extremely impressive.

"Vidarr Yggdraval, District Two. Score of… Eight." I wonder how the bastard scored so high even though he was reaped. Guess it's Career District privilege.

"Margaret Blackstone, District Two. Score of… Eight." No shocker there. She wasn't too shabby with those fencing fights I'd seen.

"Ductor Romilly, District Three. Score of… Four." Huh. I have no idea what that little deaf kid could've done to score anything above a three.

"Cyra Hensley, District Three. Score of… Five." Hm… Really, no shocker there. She's not very trained with weapons.

"Collin Glaucus, District Four. Score of… Eight." Blaine seems surprised. The boy from Four must've done something really showy or cool to deserve that. Maybe something that proved how ready he is to kill. He's so stoic and quiet, and he never smiles. He'll be some competition.

"Serafina Anya Lecter, District Four. Score of… Six." I thought the volunteer from Four would scored better. I wonder what she did. She's so damn carefree, maybe she messed around. Maybe she just sucks with weapons. She doesn't seem like a killer, that's for sure.

"Hamilton Rayce, District Five. Score of… Five." Just like his allies. I wonder how he managed _that_. He must've gotten over whatever panic he was having and pulled his shit together somehow.

"Cory Baker, District Five. Score of… Four." Ouch. Outscored by her own tiny weak District partner. I wonder what's happening in the Five compartment right now. Probably some fear and chaos, especially because that Abner mentor guy's not exactly stable.

"Amari Cooper, District Six. Score of… Four." Another ouchie there. I haven't really seen him doing much, really, just playing hanky panky with that girl from District 9, the little spineless one who spends her time hiding with her bunny. So pathetic.

"Billie West, District Six. Score of… Six." Not too shabby for a girl from Six of all places. And especially one with a disability. She's just plain bitchy, though, I've seen her swatting away people who just wanted to help her the whole fucking time. Whatever.

"Kendal Beck, District Seven. Score of… Seven." I look up at that one. Sevens are right below _Career_ status. I wonder what the hell that squishy cute kid did to get a fucking Seven. I watched him trying to learn weapons, he wasn't great.

"Briella Delani, District Seven. Score of… Eight." Of course. Career girl is pretty damn strong. She said she's worked chopping down trees her whole damn life. If only every District kid could have the chance to build muscle like that.

I start to feel ever-so-slightly nervous. I could definitely make it without the Careers, after all, I'm good at fighting and experienced, and I know how to get people to like me.

"Nautica Martinez, District Eight." But still… "Score of…" Does he linger on it longer than he did the others?! I swear to God! "Eight." Phew.

I breathe a small sigh of relief as Jessamine squeaks, her voice coming out like she's choking on soap and bubbles are floating out of her damn mouth, "That's so great, Nautica!"

"Felicity Johnson, District Eight."

"They're talking about me now!" she screeches, causing the others to look up. "Score of… Five." She makes a noise of disgust, whining so loudly I can't even hear him say Kade's name, and just see the number 8 rotating around his head. Jessamine tends to her, and takes her to get some water while the mentors and I watch the rest of the scores in silence.

"Karima Highland, District Nine. Score of… Three." Figured as much. Tiny girl, and she had an ugly bloody spot on her lip from a fall from the top of the agility station. I snort, but only a little bit, covering it in coughs because I know the mentors would scold me.

"Raoul Keaton, District Ten. Score of… Four." Two in a row. Though not surprising, it's still an ouch kind of moment.

"Rachel Turner, District Ten. Score of… Eight." She's a volunteer, so it's not a big shock. Why would anyone volunteer if they didn't want to win?

"Edgard Lowell, District Eleven. Score of… Five." Alright, Not too bad for the kid from Eleven, who seems to constantly be in confusion or doubting himself. We'll see what he does.

"Martina Réyes, District Eleven. Score of… Four." I thought someone who spent so much time alone would have had a higher score, but I can't really say. Maybe she's playing weak. Maybe she just sucks. Maybe she has another plan in mind. Who the hell knows?

"Leo Aslan, District Twelve. Score of…" Blaine blinks at the paper, squinting at it, as if not believing what he sees. "Er… Score of…" He leans over to a producer, while Saxon looks confused. He looks stunned as he comes back to the camera and clears his throat. "One."

The shock hits us all and washes across like a wave. I gape at it for a second as everything pauses, Blaine quickly recovering by muttering, "So shocking…"

"And, uh, Wren Ponderosa. With a score here of five." He doesn't even pause. He's still in shock.

Saxon is the first to fully recover, giving the cameras a charming smile. "Well, what an interesting and unexpected turn of events we have here! Please, stay tuned to see what the tributes can do tomorrow night during their interviews!" She smiles as the anthem plays and the program ends.

We all sit in a tense, awkward silence.

"Oh, would you look at the time!? Off to bed now, Nautica, Felicity's already gone!" squeaks Jessamine.

"Hey, Nautica." I look up as Jute Silk comes over, giving me a pat on the shoulder. "Good job. Really, that's a phenomenal score! Nothing will get in your way back home now." He offers a smile, and I just give a slight scoff.

"Right. Well, good night." I go back to my compartment, relieved to get ready for bed.

~.~.

 _-Diesel, co-Head Gamemaker.-_

I had just dropped off the final training scores when I see two figures running towards me at full speed. I jump in surprise at it. The first thing I notice is that my niece's once-light-pink hair is now magenta.

"Woah there!" I say, laughing as I'm almost plowed over.

"Uncle Diesel!" Padme squeaks happily, "Look at my hair!"

"It's very nice! Wow! Did your mother give you permission to do that?"

She bounces on her feet happily. "Oh, yes! She was glad I wanted to! See, it looks just like Iridesce's did!"

"Yes, I see that!" The color is matched almost exactly. It doesn't suit my niece quite as well as it did the District 1 female, but she loves it so who am I to rain on her parade?

"See mine?!" Marley asks, beaming at me. She reaches up to take the hat with cat ears on it off of her hair, and I realize that her once shin-length hair has all been chopped off. For a second I would've mistaken her for Kendal from 7. "Doesn't it look just like his?!" she asks cheerfully.

"Wow, it sure does!" I notice color in it, too, brown and green.

"And it's colored just like Riella's! Isn't it great!?"

"Yes, it really is, wow!" Marley puts the hat back on her head, beaming up at me.

I smile back down at them. "Who else is trending at school?" I ask them.

"Everyone's talking about Iridesce! And the Seven tributes too! Oh, and the girl from District 8! A lot of people like her, I think 'cause she's pregnant. Oh, and a lot of people think that the boy from 10 is cute!" Marley giggles, causing Padme to bump her, giggling as well.

"Yeah? That's cool."

"What's the Arena gonna be Uncle Diesel?!" Padme asks, her eyes wide, blue like her mother's (which always drove me crazy with jealousy).

"Ah-ah- _ah_. Can't tell you. You'll have to wait and find out!"

The girls both pout.

"What brings you here?" I ask them.

"Uncle Viridian said he needed a break from our noisiness, so he let us go here."

"Your uncle Viridian is babysitting you? How's that going for you?"

"It's not _that_ bad!" Marley says, giggling.

"He took us to see the symphony!" Padme says excitedly. "I want to be the principal violinist of the symphony someday! Uncle Viridian told me I could do it!"

"I know you can do it," I say, ruffling my niece's now deep magenta hair. I've heard her play that cursed violin before, and my ears have bled from the scratchy, squeaky thing, but she can do whatever she wants to, because she's a Bundren, and Bundrens not only work hard, we also have amazing luck. And, added bonus, we're good at getting lucky. If you know what I mean.

Suddenly, I see the lazy, slow stride of Viridian himself. He looks pretty tired, his hair, as dark and deep green as his eyes (and his name) sticking up everywhere.

"Hey Viridian," I say. "I didn't think I'd see you here."

"I needed a couple minutes," he says, adjusting the glasses on his face. "How are the Games going?"

"Fine," I say. "They're going to be great!" Damn, he's so pretty. He's so damn pretty. If only he'd stop unintentionally escaping my advances. He always gets away like a damn tweety bird. Someday I'll get him in my bed, though. I know it.

"So…" I'm about to ask him about Joltee, if what that asshole said about sleeping with Viridian is really true or if he was just messing with me, but then I remember that my nieces are in the room and quickly stop the thought. "I heard you took them to see the symphony? How was that?"

"It was fine." His expression changes slightly. "I… Should probably get back home to practice some more, though… If I want to be a part of it, I'll have to work."

"What? Come on, Viridian, you're the best damn pianist I've ever seen!" There's no reason he couldn't be in the symphony now.

"I don't want to try out until I'm sure I'm ready." That's like him. He's a perfectionist, always nitpicking. Especially about music. Not even just his own. It's crazy weird. He has perfect pitch, so he can just hear something and tell you that you're flat or sharp or whatever the hell else. It's really kind of amazing. But also annoying. It's probably a good thing he's never heard Padme play the violin, because she's still not very good at it, and he'd probably tell her that and crush her dreams.

But he's especially hard on himself. The guy will play something fucking amazing and he'll get upset because he says it sucked. Music is his fixation, he lives and breathes it, that's what he does all the time. He's autistic, so the world confuses him, and so do people, but his piano (and his cats, who like me way too much) is the place he feels the most at home. I can respect that, I guess. If only he didn't have such a nice ass.

"Of course. Well, hopefully you'll be ready soon. We have some scoring things to discuss, so I'll have to be on my way."

Padme and Marley hug me goodbye, and I hug them back. "You two be good for Uncle Viridian."

Viridan just massages his temples as the girls rush out the way they came.

"See you later," I say, waving and giving him a smile.

"So long, Diesel." He turns around and walks away.

.

"A _one_!? Why a one!?" Blaine and Saxon have Santana and I cornered.

"Why didn't you give us some warning? I probably looked like an idiot!"

"He carved _Gamemakers_ into a dummy and destroyed it," Santana says. "This isn't a game anymore. He's going to be dead tomorrow. First thing. Dangerous people like this must be eliminated. He thinks he's edgy and cool, but he's signed his own death sentence."

"I thought he might've been a fine Victor, as well," I sigh disdainfully. Oh well. If he's going to pretend to kill us, he's going to pay the ultimate price. I can't wait to see the look on his face when he realized that this was all his fault. We rule with an iron fist, we don't mess around. After all, it's our lives on the line.

"Vidarr was reaped! How did he get such a high score!?" Blaine asks. I have to admit, I was so impressed by all the tributes that I probably over-scored a lot of them. The prude was much more rational about hers, but we averaged them so some of them may be on the high side. Oh well, I figure, it is what it is.

"He impressed us," Santana says simply. He certainly did. I still laugh a little bit. That cocky, cheeky bastard. He has to die, of course, if I want to live, because of what he did, but I have to say that he's done everything I would've wanted in a Victor.

"And Collin?" Blaine interrogates. The boy from 4 is quiet and unimpressive, really, but he certainly was impressive to me. I scored him high, and Santana gave him an impressive score as well. He's Career material, but given the state of things this year, it doesn't really surprise me that he chose not to go with them.

"He was pretty violent. I respect that," I shrug, giving him the simple answer.

"Alright… But… What about _Kendal_? You can't tell me that kid did something to deserve a _seven_!" Saxon puts her hands on her hips, glancing at me.

"Oh, but he did." I grin a bit.

Now _that's_ a sly, cheeky bastard.

Oh, don't get me wrong, his private session was nothing but unimpressive. He just did that stupid berry test and some knot-tying, the mantra of the inexperienced. Actually, I scored the kid higher, I gave him a solid 9, but the prude insisted we lower it. The way the kid came and faced me when that 11 boy was shitting himself is to me the most admirable thing you could do. Plus, yesterday Cobra applied to move Districts for next year. It seems they were finally able to stand up for themselves and escape the mentors that bullied them. I asked around, and it appears that the kid stood up for Cobra and lost his mentor because of it. And, what can I say? I think that's the most courageous thing he ever could've done. So, I think he has a chance. So I scored him high.

Plus, he reminds me of Ike, just a little bit. I have my reasons.

"I can't tell you about it, though."

Santana rolls her eyes. "He wasn't _that_ impressive."

"Oh well. It's all over now," I say cheerfully.

Santana sighs heavily.

I smile and give them all a last nod. "Well, I'm going to be off to bed. Long day tomorrow preparing for interviews. You'll be up, Blaine," I say, patting the boy on the back. He gives a small smile and nods, swallowing nervously. "See you then!"

I leave and head home, still smiling and lingering on the scores and the excitement of the big reveal of our Arena.

 _ **A/N: Ah, yes, another update! I stayed up way too late doing this, I have early church tomorrow morning. Whoops. #worth it**_

 _ **Anyways, here we have training scores! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I hope all the scores are justifiable. I feel so weird scoring tributes, lol. I hope they were all satisfactory!**_

 _ **Hope you liked seeing Diesel's POV and some justification for the more surprising scores. As always, let me know what you wanna see more or less of, if anything.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Please be honest and constructive so I know for future endeavors: Did you like seeing all 24 points of view twice, or do you feel like this took too much time? Did seeing each tribute twice help you to know them better or like them more? I know I would love to see my tribute twice and the others as well, but that's me. I want to know what you think for next time!**_

 _ **Thanks! That's all I've got to say. Just interviews and then we're finally ready for the Arena!**_


	25. Interviews Part I

_-Maggie, D2F-_

My prep team buzzes around me, all of them talking excitedly about their vicious girl from District 2 who's going to woo the crowds. Of course I can't help feeling nervous, who wouldn't? Having the eyes of so many people on you.

It was a really long day of Nikko giving me advice. I didn't think there were so many unspoken rules to know about for this. It's such a long list and poise is everything. He laid out the template for a typical District 2 interview for me to follow, praising the Capitol, talking briefly about life back home, and finally focusing on training, my high score, and getting them to see me as a threat. Not giving away too much, but not skimping. You have to find that range that's just right.

After that, he gave me off to my prep team, who immediately got to work. They're sad that the color in my hair faded, and take at least half an hour trying to figure out what to do with it.

"Brown is so boring," complains one, "And straight is even more boring…"

"Straight _is_ boring," I say, and laugh at my own wisecrack. Sometimes remarks like that just come out before I can stop them.

My prep team just bursts out laughing at the comment before they go back to playing with my hair and trying out different things.

"Maybe you could fishtail braid it?" I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful. I want to look beautiful for Hannah, because I hate wearing dresses and nothing will make me feel content like this. But Hannah loves me in any outfit, but especially all dressed up, so I'll do this for her. I know how much she loves to see my hair fishtail braided, maybe I can convince them…

"Oh no, dear, you've already been seen with that. This is the interviews, you have to be classy!"

I sigh quietly, swearing inside my head. They curl my hair and I sit still, and then they start to do my make-up. I hate make-up so much. I always try to lick the sticky chalky stuff off my lips, and my eyes get itchy with mascara and eyeliner and I always want to rub it off. And cover-up just suffocates my skin. That doesn't stop them from caking it on, though, until I barely feel like Maggie anymore.

My dress is short, ending a fair distance above my knees, and looks like leather, though luckily, it's more comfortable. It has silver, sparkly beads on the bodice, and the skirt frills out. They give me silver jewelry. It's interesting, they usually decorate 2 tributes in gold. I just go with it, though. They even put some glitter on my face, around the eyes and on the cheeks, which makes me scrunch my nose. Ugh.

They put silver gladiator sandals on my feet that go up past my ankles but luckily are flat. They're not exactly comfortable, but I can make do, after all, I go third.

"Smile for us, dear, you look so wonderful!" gushes my Head Stylist, Alta. She's a tall skinny woman with gold hair and eyes. "Good posture now!" she knows she won't have to remind me twice.

I stand up tall, as I'm used to, and give a smile.

"One more thing…" she says, as my prep team exchanges a look. "The glasses."

"Oh…"

"They take away from it, they really do."

"I need them to see…" I say.

"You don't need to see for your interviews, though…" She quickly says.

"Here dear, why don't you take a case and give them to your escort before you go on?" She gives my prep team a look, and they quickly snap into action. The shortest and oldest of the three scurries off to find a case for me. I wish I could just wear my damn glasses for the interview, because I think they look just fine, but Nikko told me I just have to do what they tell me.

I slide the glasses back on, trying to hold back the urge to wipe my mouth and rub my eyes. It's really miserable. Alta leads me out of the room and soon I see Vidarr and Vienna there, waiting for me. Vidarr looks slick in an entirely black suit, contrasting with his white-blond hair and bringing out the darkness of his eyes. His hair's exactly like it was when he was reaped and through training and during chariots, but because he's a man it's alright for his hair to be the same way. I sigh a little bit to myself, cursing gender roles.

"Oh, Maggie, you look so wonderful dear!" Vienna gushes, looking a little like she wants to give me a hug but restraining. "I'm so proud of you, dear!" she says, her pink lips smiling widely. "You've practiced with this, I know you'll have a stunning interview!"

She gives Vi and I another look, her bright purple eyes alight with a smile. "My first tributes… Oh, I just know we can have a Victor! You're going to knock their socks off!"

"I hope so," Vi says, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Come on then! Let's get in line!" Vienna smiles and leads us to the wait area, where the tributes are already gathering.

"Good luck with your interview," Iridesce says, her blonde hair in an elegant side-bun, her blue eyes coated in sparkly red eyeshadow that matches dress. Her lips are a dark shade of red,

"Thanks," I say. "Good luck to you too."

She walks to the front of the line, smiling, as Blaine Buchanan appears on the little screen up in the corner of the room, so we can watch everyone's big moment of fame. His hair is just as bright pink as always, and he wears a red velvet suit and a black bowtie, his pink eyes alight with a smile.

"Good evening Capitol! How's everyone tonight!?" The crowd roars in response. "I'm really feeling the excitement! Welcome to the interviews for the 84th annual Hunger Games!" everyone starts to cheer, and I can feel the noise and vibrations from here. "Well, let's start off the night with our first tribute. From District 1, here's Iridesce Eurian!"

Iridesce smiles and walks out on the stage, her posture impeccable, her smile looking like it's not even staged. Her dress is bright red and sparkly, long-sleeved, and ends on her just about where my dress ends on me. Her heels make her look tall and show her muscles impressively, without making her look like a muscleman.

"Welcome Iridesce!" Blaine says, smiling. "Please, have a seat!"

She sits, smiling widely. "Thank you, Blaine, thank you!" A slight giggle bubbles out of her, and she beams widely, the cameras catching her beauty.

"We welcome you to our beautiful Capitol!" Blaine says, "How have you found your time here?"

"Oh, Blaine, it's absolutely wonderful!" she says, "And the people here are absolutely spectacular, especially."

The crowd applauds and roars loudly at her comment. Iridesce smiles at her goal having been achieved.

Blaine waits for the crowd to silence before he continues. "Well, the people here are indeed great. It's so nice to see you with some color on, it definitely suits you."

Iridesce gives another giggle. "Oh thank you. I think everyone should have a little color in their lives." The crowd applauds at this, again. She's really working them up.

"Very true! So, Iridesce, we'd all like to know what you did to get the highest score of them all! A nine!" The crowd applauds again, and Iridesce waits for them to quiet before talking.

"I can't tell you much, you know that!" she says, a teasing air of scolding in her voice with a smile. Her expression becomes more serious as the crowd quiets even more. "But I'll tell you that I showed everyone _exactly_ what I can do."

"Exactly what you can do, wonderful! So, you volunteered, why did you choose to do so?"

"I did it for the fame, of course, and the riches never hurt. For family and friends, you know, just like anyone else would. I also volunteered for me, to give myself a name with honor and prove my courage. I need to branch off, of course. I trained and now I'm going to win." She keeps a very serious face on through that, showing to everyone that she's more than just a ditzy girl who doesn't know what she's in for. She talks with Blaine a little while longer before her buzzer rings and he presents her to the crowd one last time, as they roar with applause.

"Next up, another volunteer straight from District 1, Callum Ainsworth!"

His blond hair is done as always, and his blue eyes are just as gentle as they were when he volunteered for that scary guy. His lips are pulled up in a gentle smile, but the look in his eyes doesn't convey it very well. He's wearing a suit made of dark violet velvet, a nice lavender shirt, and a black tie. He shakes Blaine's hand and takes a seat.

"Welcome to the Capitol, Callum!"

His movements and words seem to be staged, but I don't think the crowd notices. "Thank you Blaine. It's great to be here."

"Well, it's a great day here in our Capitol. What's your favorite part of being here?"

"Oh, I couldn't choose just one. Everything here has been wonderful, really, it has. The food here is really good, and the desserts are just plain tempting."

"Surely they are! Have you tried any of them?"

"I haven't been allowed to," the boy admits sheepishly, "Careers don't really have dessert."

"Oh, what a shame!" Blaine says, and the crowd agrees.

Callum nods. "Yes, it definitely is."

"Have you eaten anything sweet in your life!?" the young interviewer looks direly concerned with the fact that he could've been deprived.

"Oh, I've eaten some of the candy and such I've found since getting here," Callum says. "My grandparents were never really interested in giving me stuff like that, but it's actually really good. Homely." He laughs a bit. "I actually think it's the best thing I've eaten here."

"Ah, yes, who doesn't love candy?" Blaine smiles and the crowd applauds. "Delightful! So, we have to know. Why did you volunteer?"

"Well…" Callum swallows hard and takes a deep breath. "I live with my grandparents, and they're both getting older. I can't care for them well. Without them, I'll be alone. I need some money, and I need to break free. Really, I have to win. For myself more than anyone."

"Wow, what a dedicated young man, am I right?" The crowd applauds and cheers, and Callum's expression barely changes as Blaine asks him a couple other, much more minor questions.

"Well, it seems like you've got a lot to fight for, and we wish you the very best! Everyone, Callum Ainsworth!" The crowd applauds and I realize that it's my turn when Blaine then says, "And now from the beauty from District 2… Maggie Blackstone!"

I put my chin up, making sure my posture is picture perfect. Then, I walk out on the stage, putting a smile on.

"Welcome to the Capitol Maggie!" Blaine says, taking my hand and making friendly eye contact with me. I try not to feel too uncomfortable at his synthetic gaze as I take a seat, adjusting myself to be sure it's just as we had rehearsed earlier today.

"Oh, thank you Blaine. It's great to be here," I say convincingly, causing some of the crowd to cheer.

"Certainly is. So, is there a reason you like so much to be called Maggie? I was thinking Margaret was a fine name!" Some people applaud.

I scowl, hopefully it looks like I'm being theatrical, but I feel dead serious. I hate being called by my full name, it sounds like something a grandma would be named, not a young, carefree teenager. I've never liked my full name. "Well Blaine, the truth is that I really don't like the name Margaret. I really only respond to Maggie."

"Well, that's settled then!" he laughs. "A feisty one we've got here, folks!" the crowd applauds and nods in agreement.

"It's just a pet peeve, if you will."

"Ah, yes. We all have them. One of mine is people asking me my weight." The crowd laughs at his joke, and I allow myself a polite laugh as well.

"So, your District partner Vidarr was reaped… How do you react to that?"

The crowd makes a sort of "Ooooo" sound, and I know that they're ready for me to throw some shade.

"Well…" I try to pick my words well. I don't want to be a target, but I don't want to look weak either. "I think that he has a lot to prove for himself, considering that he was reaped."

"Oh, come on, there's got to be more to it than that! In a District that has seen two volunteers for almost every Games in history, for one to be reaped now of all times?"

"It is against what District 2 believes in," I say, very carefully. My words are just as critical in determining my fate as my training. "After all, District 2 is a District of honor, a District where the tributes have a lot of fire in them. And so far I've seen that Vidarr doesn't have it." The Capitolites treat it like an insult, but I didn't mean it that way. After all, if that fire is left unattended, it can consume and destroy Careers quickly. Vidarr's definitely kept his cool. The Capitolites treat it like some crazy kind of shade, though, so I think I've wiggled my way out of this one.

"Very wise and insightful from Miss Maggie," Blaine remarks. "So then, off the topic of your District partner and onto the most important star of the moment: tell us why you volunteered."

"Well, Blaine, I volunteered on my father's behalf." The crowd silences completely. "You see, we lost him. He died in a violent clash between Peacekeepers and…" I wonder if I shouldn't bring this up… "Rebels."

The crowd is even more silent, if possible. Blaine looks for a half a second like he doesn't know how to react, before he says, "Oh dear, what a shame. It's so heartbreaking, isn't it folks? That people are so violent and cruel?"

"He was innocent," I say, frowning and clearly upset, the memories still horribly fresh. "He didn't do anything wrong."

"Well Maggie, you're here in honor of him, and you're going to serve him well, I just know it. You've already proven yourself, so just a little bit longer and you'll be a Victor, just for him."

"Yes," I say, shaking off the sadness. It's never good to end your interview on a sad note. "I'm going to win to honor him."

"Maybe you can use your position to end some of this hate and violence. Protect the innocents, that's what the Capitol is out to do. The rebels are blindly killing. They don't understand that they are the problem."

I just nod in agreement. "I want the violence to stop before it takes any more innocent lives."

"What an honorable young woman!" Blaine says, raising the mood again. "We wish you the best of luck in the Arena!"

"Thank you Blaine," I say, smiling brightly. "Thank you so much."

He raises my hand and presents me one last time. "Everyone, Maggie Blackstone!" The crowd roars with applause and I smile as I walk off the stage, mostly just relieved that it's over.

As soon as I'm out of sight of the camera, I take my shoes off and Nikko drapes a blanket over my shoulders so I don't feel so exposed.

"Thanks," I say, as Vi goes up for his interview.

"Welcome Vidarr!" Blaine says, smiling as he sits. "My, you clean up well, am I right?"

The crowd applauds. Vi shifts slightly, looking awkward. He was much more awkward when we were first starting out, though.

"So, Vi, you were reaped. I think we're all wondering about that. What happened? Why did nobody volunteer for you?"

Vi clears his throat, his pale skin paling even more. "Well Blaine," he says, "I'm not entirely sure." He lies convincingly. "You see, I am not inexperienced. I do have a shot. Don't be fooled, Blaine."

"I think you showed that with your training score," Blaine says, and the crowd murmurs in agreement. "Care to elaborate on how you got that?"

"You know I'm not allowed to tell you, Blaine," he says cooly. "But good try."

"Well, you always have to try!" Blaine says, laughing lightly. "Alright, so you're experienced, you're ready for the Games."

"District 2 certainly wouldn't send in a tribute that didn't have full control and know what they're doing. The fact that I was reaped means nothing."

"Well, very bold and forward statements coming from our District 2 boy! I love it!" The crowd applauds and Vi seems to breathe a sigh of relief.

"So, you've enjoyed your time in the Capitol?"

"But of course," he says, lounging back and seeming relaxed. "Really the only thing that District 2 has that the Capitol doesn't is my wife. I miss her right now, I miss her all the time. I'm just aching to see her and be with her again. That's all I want."

"Your wife, huh? Why don't you tell us a little about her?"

"Oh, I could spend all day talking about her, Blaine. My dear wife Ashe. She is everything to me. We met early and fell in love pretty quick. I wasn't really looking for love, but she wore me down. We were married as soon as we could possibly be." Blaine looks like he's going to say something, but Vidarr keeps on talking. "She's the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and she loves me so much. I hate to be away from her, every second away from her I miss her more and more. I just want to get back to her, with the honor and the wealth and the title of Victor."

"Wow, how touching. Well we wish you all the best getting back to her!"

"Thank you Blaine," he says, smiling gratefully.

"I wish I had a love like that, don't you?" Blaine asks, and the audience roars, back to its previous energy. Blaine asks a few more questions before Vi's buzzer rings.

"Everybody, Vidarr Yggdraval!" Blaine smiles as Vi leaves the stage.

"Next up, District Three's very own Cyra Hensley!" The girl walks onto the stage, her blonde hair held back from her pretty face in a flirty, fun, curled ponytail. Her blue eyes were pretty dull at the reaping, but it appears her prep team knew how to make them look more vibrant. Her dress is completely covered in gemstones on the top, which gradually disperse and separate, making the illusion of a night sky with a navy skirt decorated with stars. "Welcome Cyra!"

"Thank you Blaine," she says, smiling.

"Please, have a seat!"

She sits down, smoothing down the long skirt as she does. She sits very tall and proper. She's actually very pretty, now that she's all made up like a celebrity and not just dressed in drab 3 clothes.

"Well, welcome to the Capitol! It's lovely to have you here, nice to see you! How have you enjoyed your stay?"

"Oh, the Capitol is absolutely awesome. I've seen things here I've never even imagined. It's really been an experience like no other!"

"That seems to be a consensus between our outer-District tributes," Blaine says. "What's the best part of it for you?"

"Oh, I couldn't choose just one. The food is great, the beds are so comfortable, and the atmosphere is unreal."

"The city is certainly beautiful, isn't it? Have you seen it at night?"

"I have. The view from our balcony in the Tribute Center is awe-inspiring."

"The Capitol itself is certainly the most beautiful place in Panem. And I see that you have some of the night sky in your dress! Stand up, give us a look!"

Cyra smiles and nods as she stands up and gives a slight twirl for the crowd to see the dress. "My Head Stylist is brilliant," she says.

They find the woman in the crowd, her blue lips pulled up in a smile as the audience applauds her. She puts a hand up in thanks.

"She certainly is!" Blaine says over the crowd. "So Cyra, you were reaped, true, but what do you have that they don't?"

"Well Blaine, I'm not going to say too much. What's a girl without her secrets? But, I'll say this. I am from one of the most intelligent Districts in all of Panem. I am among the oldest tributes here. I have trained smartly and have an alliance to back me up. I know what I'm doing, and I have a lot to get home to." She gives a sly smile. "Don't you dare count me out."

"Ah, yes, we wouldn't dream of it." Her buzzer rings. "Cyra Hensley, everyone!" The crowd applauds.

"Next up, we have our boy from District 3, Ductor Romilly!" The crowd applauds as the boy from 3 goes onto the stage. He looks nervous, but smiles trying to hide it. "Welcome Ductor, please have a seat!" The boy from District 3 bites his lip. "So, how have you been enjoying your time here?"

"It's been pretty good!" he says, putting on a smile. His eyes don't entirely convey it, though. "The Capitol certainly is amazing, I'll say that. The views are great, the cityscape is inspiring, and the people have been really good to me!"

"That's wonderful to hear! Yes, our Games team are certainly great people!"

"They are." Ductor smiles. "I think they deserve a round of applause!" he says, bringing out his charismatic side as the crowd roars. Even Blaine claps and cheers before picking up his microphone again.

"Sometimes tributes as young as yourself aren't nearly as pleasant. It's so rejuvenating to see a young man like you! So, Ductor, why don't you tell us about your disability a little bit to start off?"

"Oh yes," he says. "Well, you see Blaine, I speak like this because I can't hear myself talking. You see, I really like to ice skate. I had an accident, though, a while ago, and I lost pretty much all of my hearing. Like, I can hear the crowd a little bit, as if they're very far away, but I can't hear myself or you."

"You can't hear me!? How do you have a clue how to answer then!?"

"I've gotten really good at reading lips," he says, "Although sometimes I do read them wrong so you'll have to forgive me."

"You're doing wonderful!" I notice that Blaine holds the microphone further away from his lips so that Ductor can see them well.

"Thank you," he says, throwing in the hand sign for good measure.

"You also sign, then?"

"That's right. I'm not very good, though, and I don't know a lot, but I'd like to learn."

"Well, we certainly hope you will. So, you are young, you're from District 3, you're deaf… Why should we root for you?"

"You should root for me because I'm good at agility, fast, and smart. We've had 15-year-old Victors before, even 14-year-old! To count me out because of my age is just silly! You'll see!"

"Very nice! Is there anything you want to say to those who are waiting for you back home?"

"I said most of what I want to say for them. I love you all and I'm going to fight for you. I'll be back soon."

His buzzer rings after a few more questions about home, and Blaine holds up his hand. "Everyone, Ductor Romilly!" The crowd goes wild.

The interviews so far have all been good. I hope for my sake that they get worse, so that I can stand out some more. I watch as Blaine announces Serafina Anya from District 4.

 _-Hamilton, D5M-_

Tribute after tribute goes up to interview. The District 3 interviews went extremely well, which is important because those are my allies. Now I have to carry my weight and interview well.

A nagging part of me is saying that it's a bad idea to tag along with District partners. That they'll look out for each other and I'll be the human shield. I know it doesn't feel that way when I talk to them, but when I stay up at night unable to sleep, thoughts invade my brain that just make me terrified and upset.

Blaine announces Serafina Anya, who gives us all a smile and a slight wave as she goes out for her interview. She's wearing a green dress with a flared skirt, cut very low and showing off a lot of cleavage. She knows how to use it, I presume. Her hair is done in a wavy side ponytail, pouring out in black cascades across her right shoulder. Her lips are bright red, her eyelashes thick. Her brown eyes look dark, and, thanks to eyeliner, almost cat-shaped. She smiles and waves at the crowd.

"Welcome Serafina Anya, please take a seat!"

She smooths down her skirt, crossing her ankles, showing off the silver high heels she wears. She smiles at the crowd. "Thank you Blaine, it's really an honor to be here!"

"Well then, I think the first big question is the method behind you madness. What brought you to volunteer and be here with me right now?"

"Well, I've been working pretty hard towards the Games, they're held high in my District, after all. It's a point of honor, really, and the fame and riches certainly aren't bad. I'm here to fight for my District, for my family, for me."

"Yes, yes, how honorable! But, we've noticed that you're not going to go with the Careers this year… Is that true?"

"Yes, Blaine, it is true."

"Could you tell us why that is?"

"Well, I have my reasons, really… Especially because of this bunch of Careers is so…"

"Unconventional?"

"Yes, that's a good word. I don't have much faith in these Careers, you see, because of how things worked out. But I have a different plan, one that will work out better."

"Have you made any new allies?"

"I think you'll have to wait to find that out," she says, giving a smile.

"Oo, so mysterious. Well, let's steer off of that for a bit and talk about your life back home. What did you do?"

"I mostly did Games work. But Blaine, I do have another passion that will give me an edge."

"Oh? What would that be?"

"Ever since I was a little girl, I've loved to dance."

"Dance? Really? Well, how would a pretty ballerina dancing help you in a fight to the death?"

"Dancers are very strong, and flexible."

"Well, you must dance for us then, wouldn't you like to see it?!" the crowd roars with approval.

Serafina Anya giggles. "I'm going to save it. Though it will be my Victor's talent, and I'll be glad to dance for you then." The crowd applauds some more.

"Well, could you show us some of that flexibility?"

She giggles again. "Blaine, I would show you, but I'd probably rip the dress and give you quite the view."

"We already do have a lovely view there," Blaine says, though he shifts like it's uncomfortable to him to be objectifying her. "Your dress certainly does you justice."

She winks at him, standing up and showing off the way the dress shows off her body. "Don't you know it? I'm full of surprises," she says, smirking. The crowd applauds, and some of them wolf-whistle at her, which she smiles at. I think it's gross, but it's the angle that works for her.

"Well, is there anything else you'd like to say to your friends and family that are cheering you on?"

"I'd say that I'm so thankful for their support, and that I love them all so much. I'll be home in a jiff, just you wait! I wouldn't want to keep them waiting!"

"Very good! Everyone, here's Serafina Anya Lecter!" The crowd applauds and cheers, and my stomach flops with nerves as the tributes count down to me. "Next up, another volunteer from District 4, Collin Glaucus!"

He walks out on the stage, his face totally set. His bronze hair is combed neatly, and his dark brown eyes look even darker than usual. He doesn't have any kind of expression on, and doesn't react to the crowd.

"Welcome, Collin!" Blaine smiles at him. Collin crosses the arms of the dark green suit he wears, giving a brief nod in greeting. He must be going for the quiet, tough point of view. "So, another courageous volunteer from District 4. What brought it on?"

The boy shrugs, his expression rock-hard and unchanging. "I'm ready."

"You seem like it! So we heard that you're not going with the Careers either! Is there a reason why?"

Collin just gives a shrug. He's keeping that quiet tough-guy figure and he's not budging. Blaine changes accordingly.

"Well, he's very focused, isn't he?!" The crowd applauds in agreement, but a lot of them seem slightly awkward. "He's not letting anything stand in his way!"

Collin nods, but doesn't speak. Just looks around at the crowd. There's an awkward, tense feeling in the air, but the crowd looks at him with admiration. "So, you're going to go in there and fight, and get home. Do you have family there?"

Collin nods, looking right at some of the cameras as if he's trying to see his family through the screen.

"You got quite the impressive training score. I assume you used some weapons to do it?"

Another nod.

"So interesting."

If Collin wasn't watching the crowd and Blaine so indifferently, you'd think the silence is out of nerves. Instead he seems to have this kind of power around him that puts him above doing these stupid interviews. Blaine tries to fish some spoken answers out of him before going back to some more yes or no questions about how courageous and honorable Collin is and about how great the Games are.

The crowd is kind of toned down after that, and I feel bad. I was hoping they'd be excited for Cory. Maybe she'll be able to wind them up again.

"Everyone, it's time for District 5's Cory Baker!" She gives me a last pat on the shoulder and skips out onto the stage. She's wearing a cute, short-sleeved, white lace dress that ends at her knees. Her flaming red hair has been put up into an elegant bun with a white lace headband, and her dark eyes contrast with the bright, neon pink shadow around her eyes. She's smiling and waving at the crowd, which makes them applaud louder. "Welcome Cory! Please have a seat!"

The girl shakes her head, her ponytail swinging when she does.

"No? Well, alright then! To each their own, of course. So, you're mute, correct?"

She nods. I feel nerves bubbling in my gut. I just want her to have a good interview.

"What a shame."

She shakes her head, pointing to herself and zipping her lips.

"I'm not very good at charades," Blaine says, causing the crowd to laugh, "But I believe you're saying that you chose to be this way?"

Cory smiles at him and nods.

"Why ever would that be?"

She considers. That's a hard question to answer without using words. I'm not even completely sure why she chose this. She first bats her eyelashes and swishes her hair.

"A person? A flirt?" she shakes her head, gesturing to herself and drawing a symbol with her hands I can't make out. "Oh, a girl! A female, a woman!" she points and nods at that. Then she makes a curve around her belly. "Er… Beer belly!" She shakes her head, rolling her eyes but still keeping that smile on. She cradles her arms and rocks. "Oh, uh, your Mother!" She nods. Then, she makes a shocked expression and collapses onto the ground, flailing in an awkward position. "She died?" Cory stands up again, nodding. "Alright, your mother died."

Then, she takes her ponytail and pulls it around, putting it above her face like a moustache. "A man! Your father!" she nods, then makes the motion like a gun, holding it to her head and pulling the imaginary trigger, collapsing again. The Capitolites howl with laughter at this, finding this game of charades hilarious. That makes me scowl, though. She's telling a horrible, tragic story, why are they laughing!?

"Alright, alright," Blaine looks bothered, too, putting his hands up so that the crowd quiets. "Fun and games aside. You chose to be mute after your mother died, and your father died as well… Suicide?" The crowd is silent after that. I doubt they feel any guilt at all for laughing at her. She nods, her face taking on an expression of sadness.

"Well, that is such a shame. We at the Capitol are ever-so-sorry for your loss." Cory puts on a small smile through the obvious sadness, and copies the sign of thanks that Ductor did earlier, causing the crowd to "Aaaawww!"

"Well, that took up a lot of time, but why don't you leave us with some of your biggest strengths?" Phew, I think, smiling. She can do this one.

Cory taps her brain first, giving the crowd a smile and a nod. The crowd shouts out answers, and Blaine says over the microphone, "You're smart!" she smiles and nods, then flexes her biceps, which only looks a little bit ridiculous in her cutesy lace dress. The crowd keeps shouting, and Blaine says, "Strong!" Cory nods again, then starts running in place, as fast as she can with the uncomfortable-looking silver flats on her feet. The crowd enjoys shouting answers out to her charades. "Fast!" She nods, stopping and smiling.

"Well, Panem's seen one or two mute Victors in our time. Don't count this one out, that's for sure!" Her buzzer rings as soon as he's finished saying it. "Cory Baker, everyone!" The crowd laughs and claps, whistles and applauds. I hope they liked her personality, not just the game of charades.

"Alright, next up we have Hamilton Rayce!" My nerves swell up to my stomach as I walk out onto the stage. I've been put in a slick gray suit with a golden tie, pretty simple compared to most years. The summer humidity is sticky, though, and I sweat profusely, hoping nobody notices.

"Welcome Hamilton!"

"Thanks," I say shyly, smiling. From up on the stage with the lights, the crowd barely looks like a crowd, they just look like a pit of darkness. That calms my nerves slightly.

"Well, how have you enjoyed your time here?"

"It's been really good," I say. I don't mind that my voice is quiet and somewhat shy. Hopefully that'll add to my sweet, boy-next-door kind of angle.

"Yeah? What's your favorite part been? The food? The city? The pretty ladies?" The crowd cheers at that, whistling. The noise can practically be felt from here up on the stage, almost feeling like it could physically blow me away.

"The food's really been good. And the people are great. And I've loved the view from the fifth floor balcony. Really, I don't know I could pick one."

"What's your favorite food been that you've tried? Anything stand out?" Blaine's starting with simple questions, giving me some time to ease into the interview. "I love being able to wake up and have breakfast foods. Especially pancakes."

"Mm, definitely delicious. Important question for you, Hamilton." I look at him very seriously, not sure if he's acting or he's just going to throw a big one at me. "Are you a skimpy syrup kinda guy, or do you pour it on there?"

I laugh a little bit, to diffuse the tension that was building in my stomach. "Oh, Blaine, I drown my pancakes in sugary goodness. Have to get an energizing start to my day." The crowd applauds at that. I never really realized how easy-to-please they are when they're all in a mood like this.

"That's my kind of guy right there! Now, moving away from the pleasantries, what puts you above the other tributes here?"

"Well," I say, "I can't give too much away," I realize that sounds like I'm trying to hide the fact that I have no skills, so I backpedal a bit, "I have always been pretty athletic and good with agility. I learned how to use weapons during training, and will only get better and better with it. Also, I'm bright and learn quickly, so I've got some survival knowledge."

"Well, those are some very important skills to have as a tribute indeed. How's home for you, then? Surely you've got a good number of friends."

"That's… Not exactly the case." The crowd is quiet, interested. "I've always been overshadowed by Jackson, my older brother." Just thinking about him makes me scowl. "I do have a couple of really close friends, though. Millie and Albert, I love you guys."

The crowd "Aaaw"s at that. I just give a smile that's as sweet as I can manage.

"Well, Hamilton, you're smart and have some weapons skills and fast… Who's to say you can't come out of the Games and show this Jackson who's boss?"

"I would love that," I say. I would love to come out of the Games to keep living, really. But the fact that I would have won over my brother, I guess it's an added bonus. I just keep smiling.

"Well, you're already here, so you should see it through to the very end."

"For sure, Blaine. I've got a lot riding on this, I'm certainly not going to take it lightly."

"Well, Hamilton, we wish you the very best of luck."

"Thank you Blaine." My buzzer rings, and all I feel is a tidal wave of relief.

"Everyone, Hamilton Rayce!" the crowd applauds and cheers loudly as I walk off the stage, feeling relieved.

"Next up, District Six's own Billie West!"

She walks out onto the stage, stumbling slightly in the high-heeled, knee-high black boots she's been given to wear. Her dress is black and lacy at the top, with feathers on the ends of the sleeves and the bottom of the skirt. There are some scattered gemstones on the bottom. It's fairly short, ending slightly above the knees, where the boots start, only exposing some of the skin. Her hair has been put up in a high, bushy ponytail of curls, but she doesn't look too happy about it. Her make-up is pretty plain, with some simple winged eyeliner and the rest looking natural.

"Welcome, welcome! Please have a seat." She sits and Blaine does as well. "So, how has your experience been here?"

"Well, I'm not here by choice," she says, her lips in a scowl. "Definitely not."

"Well, a lot of tributes aren't. It's about making the best of what you're dealt."

"I suppose. Even though I never wanted to go into the Games, I still will fight." I wonder if being this upfront is really a good strategy. It's bold, certainly, but… Not very smart to be talking out against the Games like this.

"That's the spirit to have! Well, even if this isn't what you were expecting, how are you going to fight?"

"I may be deaf," she scowls, "But I'm stronger than a lot of tributes here. And I won't force you to play charades with me," she says, and the crowd bursts into laughter. I clench my fists. Cory didn't do anything to her.

Blaine laughs as well. "Oh, thank goodness! I'm certainly no good at that game, as we all know."

"I think you did well," Billie says, and the crowd applauds in agreement with her.

"Oh, thank you, thank you so much! So, fill us in: anything you can tell us about your strengths? Maybe something about strategy?"

"I'm not that easy to crack," she says. "I'll just tell you a few of the highlights: I can fight, I can climb, and I am innovative and creative, more than you would ever guess."

"Oh? Were you going to use that innovative side of you in the future?"

"I mostly just used it to have fun with my friends. Although I could've used it, I suppose."

"Well, that spirit will definitely come in handy now!"

"Yes, it definitely will."

Blaine goes on to ask some more questions about her friends and family before her buzzer rings and he presents her one last time. "Everyone, Billie West!" The crowd applauds for her, but I still have some store-up anger for her jab at Cory. "Next up we have Amari Cooper!" The crowd applauds as he goes out onto the stage.

His dark hair is done neatly, a pastel pink suit contrasting with his dark skin as he strolls onto the stage with a carefree smile.

"Welcome Amari!"

He gives the cameras a carefree grin, one that I wish I could've replicated in my interview. "Thank you so much!"

Blaine sits and Amari sits, too.

"So, what's going through your mind right now?"

"I'm just thinking about how beautiful the night is and how great it is to be with all these people, especially you!" The crowd roars with applause at that, and Amari grins.

"Isn't he great?!" the crowd is still applauding.

"Thank you so much," Amari says, flashing the crowd a grin. "I think you're great, Blaine," he says, and the interviewer feeds off of his energy, putting a hand over his heart, feigning being extremely touched.

"I can't believe you think that about me," he says dramatically.

"Oh Blaine!" Amari says, his eyes alight with a joking kind of passion. The crowd roars with laughter at this, some of them whistling and some applauding.

"So, you're among the youngest here, 15. What kind of abilities set you apart from the rest?"

"Oh, Blaine, I've trained hard and learned a lot. I'll show you my impressive skills in the Arena and show you what I learned. I'm determined and headstrong, and even though I may be one or two or three years younger than the rest of the bunch, that means nothing because I'm stronger than most all of them."

"Some bold words we have here!" Blaine chuckles, impressed.

"I don't say things I can't back up," Amari says confidently, giving the cameras another smile.

"Well, we all hope you can back them up! What are you fighting for then, Amari?"

"My family, of course, but especially my friends. Hey look Mom! Hey look Dad! Hey look Kyle and Lydia! I'm on TV!" the crowd roars with laughter as he waves at a camera. Blaine even laughs, pretty hard.

Blaine asks him a couple more questions when the laughter goes down about his friends and family, and then his buzzer rings.

"One last time, it's Amari Cooper!" The crowd roars with applause, and Amari whoops with them. He confidently walks off of the stage.

"Hamilton!" I notice Cyra standing with Ductor, waving at me. "Come on! Watching the others so closely isn't going to do you much good." She gives me a kind smile.

I glance back at the screen and nod, going over to my allies and trying not to dwell too long on my interview.

 _ **A/N: Dammit, I was really hoping I wouldn't have to split this into two. I hope you like seeing the interviews anyways. Sorry this is taking so long, I promise I'm going to try to laser through the rest of the interviews. One more chapter and then we're in the Arena! So exciting!**_

 _ **Also, 96 still has like a million spots that aren't closed yet. It's really not as competitive as it seems I promise! I'd love to see some of you submitting to that because it takes place after this story! So please give it a read if you get the time and if you feel so inclined send us a tribute! It'd be appreciated!**_

 _ **Also, all of the dresses in this chapter are based off of real dresses, and I'm going to post all the pics of dresses on the Silhouettes blog! Sorry to my not female tributes, yours are much more straight-forward and I'll find something to do for you if you really want**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Which of these interviews held your interest the most, excluding your own tribute if applicable?**_


	26. Interviews Part II

_-Felicity, D8F-_

My prep team has made me even more beautiful than I already was, something that I thought was impossible, quite frankly! My dress this time is a dark, royal navy, a velvety material with lace sleeves. It's a gown that washes across my feet, hiding wedged sandals I wear. There's a silver piece that goes right above the curve of my bulging stomach. My long hair has been left down but curled into neat, thick waves.

I loved how they made my hair and eyes bright and vibrant, I want to be a part of them. The luxury, the glitz and the glamor is really wonderful and I love every second of it! That's why it's a bummer that my hair is back to its normal black, my eyes to their dull, boring brown. I want permanent dye, that will make my hair a beautiful color and eyes that make people look twice. I want to be a part of this.

Then again, these are the same people that killed my father… And now I have to fight for not only me, but my baby…

Jessamine and I were talking away, enjoying our time working towards interviews. The crazy old woman who is my mentor kept on telling me what to do, which wasn't very appreciated! I know what I'm doing. I have a strategy, and it's been working like a charm.

I didn't really think much of anything, but I was confronted by my District partner Nautica on the way back to our rooms from chariots. Now, my District partner hasn't done much really except for making perverted comments, swearing, and being unpleasant. Plus, he's louder than me, the attention whore! How dare he! Although my relationship with him is just as love-hate as mine with the Capitol…

"Hey Bitch," he said as we were going up the elevator.

"You obnoxious little brat!" I said, putting my hands on my hips.

"Try to get pity from the outlier alliances."

"Huh?" Was he talking strategy with me!?

"The Careers and the Capitol won't pity you, they hate pity. I'm just saying… You can't fight well when you're pregnant."

"Excuse you!"

"Or if that doesn't work you should really focus up on those painting stations and make a good camouflage. You don't have to listen to me, but… These Careers will snap your neck. I can try to convince them to leave you be…"

I blink at him, confused. I thought he was all macho and too-good-for-us. Which is why he was talking to Iridesce.

"But don't forget that if you weren't pregnant I wouldn't give a single fuck about anything to do with you! After all, only one of us can come home, either you or me. But I wouldn't want a tribute from any other District to take the prize."

"Hm. Thanks." I didn't really know what to say. He retreated quickly back to his room after that.

After that, I decided to try and win some pity from the others. I noticed Nautica messing around with the Careers. I let the plate fall out of my hand that day of training and wailed. The wailing came easy, though, because of these damn mood swings. I have no clue what my interview will bring. The other tributes gave me crazy looks and a couple of them helped me. It worked, I could feel the pity they had, plus they gave me the attention of everyone in the room, which I love. I saw Nautica glance my way and give a grin when no one else was looking. I guess he was right.

I stand in line as Blaine Buchanan introduces "Briella Delani!" The District 7 girl steps out on the stage, her face set in an expression that looks strong. I know that I'm going to blow them, and my boyfriend Jonathon, away with my beauty, and itch for my turn. It's been too long since everyone's looked at me! I nudge my stomach, willing the baby to kick again so I can take back the attention I deserve!

"Welcome Briella!"

"Thank you Blaine." She smiles slightly. Her dress is a pale color that's close to skin tone, with pale green leaves all around. The skirt is huge, revealing only a toe of the wedges she wears. Her lips are red, her brown hair is braided into an elegant style, and her eyeshadow is metallic green with brown eyeliner. "You can just call me by my nickname though. Riella."

Blaine nods, before he dramatically starts rubbing his fingers on his chin, in thought. "Alright… So your name is Briella… But your nickname is… Riella? Not much of a nickname then, is it?" The crowd laughs and applauds at this. I just want to be there and have them all applauding for me!

"No," she says, laughing, somewhat stiffly, "I guess not."

"Well, if that's what you prefer, I'm not one to deny it! Welcome Riella. How have you found your stay?"

"It's been as amazing as I thought the Capitol would be."

"What's your favorite part been?"

She shrugs, very politely. "I don't know if I could just pick one. I like the views, the atmosphere, the food, the showers and living arrangements. I do like the space I have here."

"The space? Please, elaborate for us."

"Well, back home I live in a very small, very cramped apartment with my girlfriend, Andy. She's so important to me, and I love that we can be together. But it is very tight for space. Having a huge bedroom, a hug dining room, room to stretch out, it's really good. If only Andy were here to make it perfect."

"Andy… Would this happen to be the same young woman that was holding your hand at the reaping, if I remember correctly?" Footage of said event plays, the focus this time being on the girl in front of Riella, not the tribute herself.

"Yes. It would." She holds up her composure well. "I chose Andy. Over my parents. I don't regret it at all, not even for a second. She's my everything, my entire world. I need to get back home to her."

The crowd seems moved by that. "Well, that's incredibly sweet. I'm sure she can't wait for you to get home with fame and fortune, then."

"She deserves the world."

"She seems like a great young woman. So, you got an impressive training score. How did that happen?"

"I'm strong and powerful. I've worked hard chopping down trees, like many District 7 tributes. I have my head in the Game and I'm not afraid of anything."

"Fearless. Wonderful, just wonderful!"

Blaine asks her a couple much more boring questions about random stuff that I don't care about before he presents her to the crowd one last time. They applaud for her but I know they'll applaud even louder for me.

"Next up we have District 7's own Kendal Beck!" The crowd applauds as he walks out on the stage. His dark, shaggy hair is done neatly, his brown eyes framed with guyliner. (Seriously who wears guyliner? Make-up is for girls!) He's wearing a dark brown suit with a pastel green shirt and a dark purple tie. He smiles at the crowd but I can see the nerves in how he holds himself.

"Kendal! Welcome!"

"Thanks Blaine!" The two of them sit.

"Well, we have a lot to talk about with you, hm?"

He bites his lip, shifting uncomfortably. "I suppose."

"So, first off, what're your thoughts of our lovely Capitol?"

"It's really nice! The sights are amazing and I think I've made some meaningful friendships here."

The crowd aaaawwwws again.

"Yes, about that. I hear you butted heads with Adler Shelton, your mentor?" The cameras find him in the crowd, where he's scowling and looking away from them.

"Yes. I did."

"Care to elaborate?"

Kendal shifts, obviously uncomfortable. "I really don't want to spend my interview time on the negative things like this, Blaine, and I don't think it's anyone's business. Adler and I couldn't get along, and Cobra agreed to mentor me instead. That's all I want to say on the matter."

"Well, there you are! Now, moving on to other things, why don't you tell us something that you really like to do? Maybe it translates into strength you can use for the Games?"

The 7 boy releases a breath. "Well, I like to read." A smile goes across his face. "I am very informed and I have a lot of knowledge about things. I just finished a book on jabberjays, and before that I was reading a really interesting book about glass manufacturing. Did you know that glass is 100% recyclable and can be recycled endlessly without any change in purity or quality? Or that the term for furnace-ready recycled glass is _cullet_?"

"No, what interesting facts! You seem to have a very good memory!"

"Oh, I do! Actually, just before I was reaped, I was going to start a book about Gravity."

"Gravity, doesn't that sound familiar to us?"

The District 7 boy shrugs and puts his hand in his pocket.

"Do you have your token here?" Blaine asks. Kendal nods and pulls a foam letter H out of his pocket. "Hm, how interesting. Does this have a story?"

"Yes. My father is a teacher, which also explains my love of learning and my good memory. I took this before I left for the reaping. Y'know, Blaine, I've been trying to figure out what H could stand for."

"H…" The crowd starts to shout out words that begin with H, some of them totally irrelevant like "hats" or "hallways" or "hepatitis."

"I hear a lot of _home_ , and even some _happiness_. And, of course, a few people said _heroin_." The crowd bursts into laughter.

"I heard a lot of good answers!" Kendal says, smiling. The crowd applauds.

Blaine asks some more stupid questions and Kendal keeps mentioning that he's smart. The crowd cheers and claps when he presents Kendal, and suddenly it's my turn! Yay!

"Our next tribute is a young woman who has definitely stood out, for many reasons. Everyone, our radiant mother-to-be, Felicity Johnson!" The crowd roars with applause, all for me.

I beam brightly as I walk out on the stage, waving at my adoring fans. "Yes, hello, thank you! Hello!" I blow kisses and wave at my fans until Blaine takes my hand and sits down. I sit down, as well, crossing my ankles like a proper lady.

"Welcome Felicity!"

"Thank you so much!" I look out into the crowd, all those people who are watching me and paying attention all to me. "I love the Capitol!" Not entirely the truth, but I can stretch it a little bit.

"Well, it's nice to have you here! What's your favorite part of the Capitol so far?"

I smile brightly. "Oh, definitely the luxury! Having Avoxes serve my every wish, having luxury showers and baths, the delicious foods, the huge city, the lights, the people!" The crowd applauds and cheers, and I revel in the applause. I know that they're all cheering for me, the eyes of the whole nation are on me! This is all I ever could have asked for.

"Yes, we are certainly very luxurious! So, I think the most obvious question is about our mini-Felicity here!" Blaine nods at my swollen belly. "Is there a baby daddy back home? A husband, perhaps?"

"Definitely a baby daddy," I say, smiling, "Not a husband. He's just my boyfriend."

"What's he like?"

"Oh, Jonathan…" I say. I feel myself tearing up, at the fact that I could possibly die and leave him, the fact that he could be sad and lonely without me… I was the best thing he had, and now I could be gone… I choke up with tears and let them come, flowing down my cheeks.

"Oh, dear!" Blaine says, frowning. "Bringing emotional thoughts?"

"Yes," I say, brining on more tears. "I miss him so much, I miss my family. I miss my home. I'm sorry," I say, waving my hands. Truth is, I just like it when people act all concerned with me and give me their special attention.

"Well, you're on the home stretch. Just get in there and win and you'll be back before you go into labor! Problem solved!"

"Oh, I hope so," I say, sobbing quietly.

Blaine rubs my back lightly. "The Games are stressful, everyone handles it differently. Especially going into the Games pregnant. You are so strong, my dear." The crowd murmurs and claps in agreement.

"Thank you," I say, blinking tears away from my eyes, hoping that it doesn't smudge my make-up in the process. "Thank you so much." I continue to cry quietly, letting the tears flow down my cheeks.

"What's your favorite memory from back home?"

"When I first got together with Jonathon," I say, sniffling. "It was one of the best friends of my life. I love him, and he loves me so much."

"That's wonderful. What a great memory. So, what are your best abilities?"

"I'm just… I'm doing my best." Time to win some pity. I start to cry some more. "I just… I just want to get home… I don't want to fight, I don't want people to get hurt!" I start to cry harder. "I just want to be back where I belong!" I sob, and the crowd murmurs and says "Aaawww." I sob and cry and Blaine rubs my back.

"What a sweet girl. We wish you the best of luck in the Arena."

"Thank you!" I sob. I know I look pathetic, but that will only work to my advantage.

My buzzer rings, and I wipe my cheeks.

"Everyone, Felicity Johnson." The crowd roars and applauds, and I give a smile through my tears as I walk off of the stage, waving. I take a seat, my back killing me and my feet horribly swollen. I kick off my shoes quickly as Nautica is announced. He goes out on the stage, smiling and waving confidently. "Welcome Nautica!"

"Thanks Blaine," he says, smiling carelessly.

"Well, have a seat, make yourself at home!"

"I haven't even been here very long you know," he says, sitting down, "But the Capitol has definitely become a second home to me."

"Ah, I'm so glad to hear that from you, Nautica! Is there anything you struggled to adjust to?"

"Well, the rich and luxurious part is pretty new. I mean, we haven't really had it great."

"Ah, I see. Are you nervous at all?"

"Of course not. Well, y'know Blaine," he says, continuing his thought, "I believe everything happens for a reason. I was put here, going into the Arena for a reason. I'm going to win for a reason. It all has meaning."

The crowd applauds at that response. "Well, you go and win the Games, and you have everything you ever wanted!"

"Of course! The Capitol is wonderful, and the people here…" he wolf whistles and the crowd applauds, beneath a layer of high-pitched shrieking.

"The people here really are great. Well, it seems you fit in just right! Why don't you tell us a little bit about your family?"

"My mother is very kind and usually worried about me. My Dad's in jail at the moment, but not for anything serious. I write him letters. I still think about him more than anyone."

"How sweet of you. I'm sure he's proud to have a son like you."

"I hope so, Blaine."

Blaine goes on to ask a couple more questions, causing women to screech and applaud for him.

"Everyone District 8's Nautica Martinez!" the crowd applauds. "Next up, from District Nine, Karima Highland!"

The crowd applauds as she scurries out on the stage. The girl from Nine is wearing a cutesy, hot pink dress that ends slightly below her knees. Coming off the bodice are flaps that look like toenails to me. There's a design on the bodice, as well. Very simple, but this girl needs some vibrancy to contrast with her pale skin and dark hair.

"Welcome Karima!"

"Hi," she says, a gasped, quick syllable. Her dress is exactly the same color as his hair, and when I have the thought I laugh. I'm so funny sometimes. Hell, I'm funny all the time what am I saying?

"Please, have a seat!"

She quickly sits, bouncing her leg uncomfortably.

"So, Karima, how have you found the Capitol?"

"It's good!" she says her answer hurriedly, squeaking it out like a hiccup.

"What's your favorite part?"

The question is barely out of his mouth when she squeaks out, "I like the oranges, they're very good I want to eat more of them!" The nerves are strong with her, she isn't doing very well. That just makes me look even more impressive than I already did look.

"Oranges, yeah? That's very good." Blaine speaks calmly and slowly, looking at her with a friendly expression, trying to calm her down a little bit.

"Yeah I really like them." She speaks very quickly, wiping the hand that isn't holding her bunny on her dress, which must be very sweaty with the anxiety.

"That's nice. Why don't you tell us about what you like to do?" he asks, very slowly and gently.

She just gives a shrug.

"I see you have a very cute bunny there," Blaine says, smiling. She nods quickly.

"My gran made it for me," she says quickly. I wonder if she has any idea that her answering fast isn't going to make three minutes go any slower.

"Yeah? Isn't that adorable?" The crowd "aaaww"s in response.

"Yeah, sure," Karima says quickly.

"That's pretty special to you, isn't it?"

"I don't ever want it to get lost I never want to let it go."

"How sweet!"

Blaine asks her a couple other questions trying to get her to open up but she doesn't really budge for him. "Everyone, Karima Highland!" the applause for her is awkward and not as loud as the others. "Next up, we have Kade Fields!"

The boy comes out, his dark brown hair slicked back. He wears an emerald green tuxedo and puts his hand up, waving at the crowd.

"Welcome Kade!"

The boy smiles. "Thanks Blaine."

The two of them sit down. "Well, how have you settled in?"

"It's definitely different than the slums of District 9, I'll tell you that."

"Is it?" The crowd laughs at that, and Kade takes it in stride.

"Of course. It's just been a lot to get used to. The cleanliness of this all… Having running water… Having a bed to sleep on, and being surrounded by people that support me. Having food to eat. Things a lot of people take for granted."

"Ah, yes. How did it come to this?" Blaine asks, and the crowd is quiet.

"Well, it all started just a couple years ago. Up until then I was pretty happy. Then, my sister Lydia was reaped and killed in the 82nd Hunger Games." The crowd murmurs with sympathy.

"Oh, yes, I remember talking to her. Well I believe the Victor of her Games, Niesha Varlett, is here with us mentoring! Is that true?"

Kade's expression darkens. "Yes. Of course, it's rationality versus emotion with this. After all, this isn't her tribute's fault. It's not her fault. But at the same time, she's my sister's killer." The tension is palpable. Blaine barely knows how to react. "Anyways… Sorry. After she died, my mother fell ill. The depression of losing her child only made it worse. We lost her a few months later. It was just me and my sister Gabby. We were homeless, wandering the streets after losing our only living parent." The crowd is engrossed in his story. No! His interview can't be sadder than mine! The bastard continues. "A bit after that, dear Gabby fell ill with pneumonia. I lost her too." The crowd physically "Aaaws" at that, murmuring quietly. I stomp my foot, poking my stomach and asking the baby to do something. "I don't have much of anything at home. Just a friend. Sophia. She's really great, she's helped me so much through the years. She's done everything she can for me, and I want to thank her and repay her when I've won."

The audience pipes up, some of the energy coming back. Blaine asks him more questions about his family, and they're so damn sad! I hate him! The applause rings out when his interview is over, and I whine disdainfully, trying to get the baby to move, dammit! I want it to do something amazing to get the attention back on me instead of on the screen at the other interviews. "Kick, dammit!" I say quietly.

I guess the stupid thing's sleeping.

 _-Raoul, D10M-_

Kade leaves for his interview, and I shift with nerves knowing that in just three minutes I'll be up on that stage.

"And now, the volunteer from District 10, here's… Rachel Turner!" The crowd roars with applause as she walks on the stage. Her dress is a light mesh material, flecks of red starting at the chest, with a red bodice and a black skirt with red tassels. The sleeves are baggy and have the same pattern, starting red, fading into black and going to red with red tassels. She has black heels on and doesn't stumble on them at all, smiling confidently. Her lips are red to match, her dark hair left down and glossy.

"Welcome Rachel!"

"Thank you Blaine." she seems pretty collected and calm, not in-your-face and hot-headed like she normally is. "Gotta say, I never thought I'd be here in all honesty. And you'll find that I'm a pretty honest person."

"Never thought you'd be here? What brought you to volunteer?"

"Honestly, Blaine, my life kinda sucks. Like Kade's. But I don't need your pity, I'm just saying. Homeless, poor, without a family. Y'know. All that shit. Decided, why not jump into the Games? Even if it seems stupid. I mean, I've trained. And honestly, dying's just fine by me. I mean, you either win or die so I made sure I was cool with both as I volunteered. So, y'know. Dying's fine."

"Oh, but I bet that won't be the case when you actually get in there!"

My District partner shrugs. "I dunno. You'll find that I don't really budge on things so easily, Hun."

"I guess we'll see!" He goes on to ask her some more questions, all of which she answers very calmly and nonchalantly. Before I know it, Blaine is presenting her one last time: "Everyone, Rachel Turner! Next up, from District 10, Raoul Keaton!"

I smooth down my light brown suit and try to look confident as I walk out on the stage.

The noise is huge. I know this isn't good for my hearing. Everything starts to blur as I walk to the stage, the noises around me, the people in the crowd. I almost miss the chair completely, and I think people laugh but I don't know. I was doing alright practicing, but being here, in front of all these people is horrifying.

I know, I know. Stage-fright isn't good for a musician. But when I play my fiddle it's just for a group of people in the District, and I know that they'll be impressed with my music. I'm not a very interesting guy, and I don't think I can impress Capitolites of all people with my words. I know that if I say one thing wrong, say one thing out of place, I'll be dead before I even know it. I quiver slightly, the nerves overpowering me.

I've always fought with nerves. To play music for people, to express your passion, to give them a piece of you is absolutely horrifying. But I've never been so overtaken like this. The shock of it all is the worst part. Of all times for stage fright to consume me, now?!

The noise fizzles off, and I see a blurry figure staring at me.

"H-Huh?" I can barely make myself talk. So much for the shy, sweet, but charming angle. I'll be lucky if I get two words out.

I hear laughter from the crowd all blurring together, and my head starts to feel woozy. I've never passed out before, especially not because of nerves of all things!

 _Raoul, pull it together. You look ridiculous right now._ For some reason I just can't snap out of it.

"I-I'm sorry," I say, "I-It's hard to hear."

"Are you sure we don't have three deaf tributes?!" Blaine asks, and the crowd is howling with laughter. All I can do is blink stupidly. Even though things are clearer now, I feel paralyzed.

"I-It's better now."

"Ah, yes, interview nerves. I have to tell you Raoul, I still have them to this day. They used to be much worse, though. Just like yours."

I nod a little bit, very stiffly. I can't seem to say anything. I don't want to hear my voice booming over the microphone. I don't want to be here, I want to be home with my parents and my fiddle.

"So, what do you like about the Capitol? Food? Luxury?"

I choke on any words that I try to say, and just provide another shrug, waiting for my timer to count down.

"How about hobbies? Tell me something you like to do."

"Music." The word sounds like I'm coughing it out I'm so stiff. "I play music."

Well, at least I put together a coherent sentence. Maybe I can save this after all. That doesn't do much to take the fear away, though. I'm not a big fan of my voice, and even though I love music I don't sing. I do hum and whistle, usually melodies that I make up myself on the spot, but not sing.

"That's something! That's very cool! So, you win the Games and come back and play music for us? Is that more comfortable than this?"

I give a quick and stiff nod, though I'm not sure. I don't know if I want to play my music all alone, all exposed for a million Capitolites and possibly the whole nation. They're probably much harder to impress than District 10.

"Well, that sounds lovely, does it not!?" I hear some applause, and can only blink dumbly at the crowd.

"I assume you play an instrument?"

"F-Fiddle." I stumble on the word a little bit, but sound slightly less robotic. "I play the fiddle." Good job, another coherent sentence.

"Fiddle, very nice! Well, Raoul, we wish you the very best of luck!"

My buzzer rings and it sounds like literal music to my ears. Blaine presents me one last time and the crowd applauds, then I quickly scurry back to the other room with the tributes.

I was hoping it'd be a relief, but knowing my interview sucked just makes the weight on my chest heavier. The other tributes give me weird looks when I come back, making me feel even more insecure. I'd like to just go and hide forever, if that's alright. And yet, I'm going to be back in the spotlight tomorrow, this time with 23 other teens that want to kill me.

"Next up, from District 11, Martina Reyés!"

Martina's dress is cream colored, standing out against her dark skin, the neck going all the way down to the bottom of her breasts, exposing a lot of cleavage. The bodice is decorated with gems, and the skirt is a flowy material with slits cut in it to show off her legs. Her hair is done like a halo on the top of her head.

"Welcome Martina! Tell me, did I get the correct pronunciation of your name?"

"Yes! The accent is at the end, Rey _és_!" she says it very dramatically, causing the crowd to laugh. She's been so focused and quiet during training that I didn't really think she had this side.

"Rey _és!"_ Blaine repeats, just as dramatically, causing the crowd to laugh and cheer and applaud some more. I wish I'd been able to do something like that.

"Yes, that's it!"

"Well, thanks for the lesson! So, how have you settled in?"

"Oh, wonderfully. I'm glad for all the hospitality that's been shown to me since I arrived here. The people are wonderful, and not bad looking." She winks, and Blaine laughs. It seems we have another flirt-er.

"Well," Blaine says, acting very flattered, "Thank you." The crowd is laughing and applauding, some of them whooping and cheering. I even hear a wolf whistle or two.

"Any time," she says, very cooly. "Of course, the food here is good as well."

"Oh yes, the food is delicious!"

"Although I bet the people taste even better," she adds slyly.

The crowd reacts with shock, a lot of people saying "Oooooo!" and people laughing loudly. There are a couple more wolf-whistles.

"Well, I reckon you could be right!" Blaine says, laughing. "So then, you seem to know how to please the crowds. What qualities of yours are going to bring you back to your home?"

"You'll find I have many good attributes," she says, causing more "Ooo"s and wolf-whistling. "I'm strong and fast from my work back home. I'm great at hand-to-hand, which is important because there may not always be weapons in an Arena, but I'll always have my best weapon on me."

The crowd cheers, and she keeps that same smile on her face.

"Well, there you have it!" Blaine asks a couple more questions and Martina keeps putting in answers and flirty comments. "Everyone, Martina Rey _és!"_ he says it dramatically again for one last laugh before he announces the next tribute. "Next up we have District 11's Edgard Lowell!"

He looks slightly ridiculous, in a tuxedo that looks like a rainbow threw up on it, waving at the crowd and trying not to seem shy.

"Welcome Edgard!"

"Thanks Blaine," he says with a smile. Already better than mine. He's going to be my only ally, I hope he can save this for us. I'll have to apologize for screwing us over when he gets back.

"So, how have you settled in?"

"It's been kind of interesting, with the costumes and hair and everything. But now that I feel more like myself, I'd say I've settled in just fine."

"Ah, yes, who could forget that chariot garb? I must say, as much as I enjoy seeing the tributes all made up and vibrant, apples are _not_ your color." The crowd bursts out laughing, applauding and whistling.

"Y'know, Blaine, I don't think apples are my color either." The crowd laughs harder and Edgard laughs as well. It's really a charming little laugh.

"Well, what are your thoughts right now?"

"I'm just keeping it positive, Blaine. I mean, it's pretty cool to be here." The crowd cheers some more. How can this guy pull this personality out of his ass? Granted, he's being himself, just stepped up a couple notches, but still.

"I think it's definitely cool to be here too. Imagine doing it for four years and counting!" The crowd applauds and cheers at that as well. They seem pretty easily excited.

"Seems like a dream job."

"Sure is. But, off of me and back to you! Tell me, what are you fighting for?"

"I'm fighting for my District, of course. Home sweet home. For my friends Mitch and Kayla, and some of the Peacekeepers I talk to."

"We salute our Peacekeepers, for their hard work protecting Panem and its citizens. Getting to know our District kids. What great people to defend us."

Edgard nods. "And my family, of course. Parents. Brother. Who, ironically, is named Wren." The crowd bursts into laughter and I know he's got them interested.

"A brother named Wren? It must be weird seeing our Wren here, who is a girl!"

"Yes, just a bit." The crowd is laughing and energetic as Blaine asks Edgard a couple more questions before the end of the interview.

"Everyone, Edgard Lowell!" the crowd roars with applause.

"Well, now we're onto our last District. First up, District 12's own Wren Ponderosa!"

The girl goes out on the stage. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a wavy ponytail, her make-up caked on to make her pretty. Her dress is white and has a flowing skirt with a slight gold design on it. The top has a shredded look to it, going on the bodice and down the sleeves. She sits down next to Blaine and crosses her ankles properly.

"So, how are you?"

"Not too bad," she says, slightly quietly. She gives a shy kind of smile.

"Yeah? Good. Well, how have you settled in?"

"I've settled in pretty well. Even the nice part of 12 is nothing like this, so it was a bit of a big adjustment. But I'm more used to it now. But I'll have to get used to being without all these luxuries in the Games."

"Yes, very true. Well, it's good to see that you've settled in well. Of course, dear, it would be a sin if I didn't tell you how beautiful you look. Is that a feathery feel we've got going on there?"

"I honestly don't know. The vision of the Capitolites honestly just goes over my head sometimes." The crowd laughs, and Wren gives a good-willed smile to them, her lips pink and full.

"You know, it sometimes goes over my head, as well. So, what kind of strategies do you have in store?"

"Blaine, I can't give away all my secrets." She smiles mysteriously. "But I've trained with a weapon and I've polished up my survival skills. I also have an ally, and we're going to wreak havoc."

"I don't doubt your ability at all. What would winning mean to you, Wren?"

"That District 12 would have a competent mentor." The crowd bursts out laughing at that. "But it would mean everything, to be back with my friends and family as a Victor. Really, it would mean everything. I want to bring the honor back home, to the Ponderosa name. I'm full of surprises, Blaine, so you'd better not blink."

"Dually noted!" he says, and the crowd cheers again.

Blaine asks a couple more questions about home, which Wren answers very vaguely and mysteriously with that shy, charming smile. Her buzzer rings and he presents her again. "Everyone, Wren Ponderosa!" The crowd applauds. "Next up, our last interview of the night." The crowd "aaaw"s. "Here is Leo Aslan!" The applause for him is hesitant and awkward, probably because of his low training score.

Leo walks out onto the stage in a gray suit with a bright red, orange, and yellow tie that ties back to his chariot colors. He sits next to Blaine with a small smile.

"So, Leo. I think we have a very important question in mind. What is with that score?"

"I think the only place to show who you really are is the Games," a voice says, from whatever talking device has been attached to him. "I didn't show everything I can do in there."

"Well, you must see it from sponsors' eyes. You're a boy from the poor part of District 12. Low score. Disabled. What can you say to win them back?"

"I'm not so disabled anymore. Even if I was, there have been mute Victors. Just because I'm poor doesn't mean I'm not strong. Poor people work hard. I've spent my whole life working hard, instead of hardly working like some others. My private session wasn't great I guess, but that doesn't matter. You'll see when I'm in the Games. If you doubt me I'll prove you wrong and then you'll want to sponsor me. Do not count me out. You will regret it if you do."

The crowd is silent.

"Some strong words," Blaine says. "Featuring the top-notch technology of Doctor Halina Townsend and her team!" The crowd applauds, roaring loudly. Leo looks slightly irritated at the commercial, and I don't blame him. He quickly snaps out of it, though. "So, you refuse to be counted out then," he continues.

"Absolutely. I have so much to get back to. I've spent so much time doing hard work. I know how to fight. I'm strong. I'm not going to go down without a fight."

The crowd applauds, and Blaine smiles in approval. "Well then, there you have it. A true fighting spirit. I love it. And that suit certainly is sharp."

Leo smiles at the crowd, striking a pose and bouncing his eyebrows. The crowd laughs and applauds. I guess he picked himself up, which his god for him but now so much for me. Blaine asks a couple more answers, and when Leo's buzzer rings I just feel relieved, ready to go back to my room and have some time on my own to have a pity party.

"Everyone, Leo Aslan!"

The crowd applauds.

"Well, what a night it's been, huh? Getting to know our tributes up close and personal, even better than before! I hope you enjoyed the program as much as I have! But, don't be too upset, because tomorrow starts the action of the Games! Can't wait to see what Santana and Diesel have in store!" The crowd applauds, and Blaine walks around the stage, roweling them up even more. "Be sure you don't miss Saxon and my after-show that will be airing live in half an hour! And, of course, mandatory viewing tomorrow morning as the Games begin!"

The crowd applauds and cheers, and I still can't believe there are so many people out there who can't wait to see children die.

"This has been Blaine Buchanan, have a fabulous night everybody!"

~.~.

 _ **Yes! A chapter in a day because why the hell not!? And next chapter we hit the Arena and unfortunately, we start losing tributes. It has been an honor to write 24 unique and diverse tributes from 24 totally awesome authors. I thank you all so much for your support in reviews, your kind words, and your encouragement and hope it continues even after tributes start to die. I hope I've done well with each character and I hope that you've enjoyed seeing them brought to life. I hope I did a good job! This is my first SYOT and though I'll admit it's far from perfect, (I've learned some important lessons through this process), I hope that I've done well. Please, tell me what you thought. I love to hear from you, submitter or not.**_

 _ **Also, Champion of Destruction, my collab with my friend Dreamer, is still accepting! I promise it's not very competitive at all, there are still some spots with no submissions so it'd really be appreciated if you gave a character or two!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Now that you've seen each tribute again, have your opinions on any of them changed? Which ones are your favorites?**_

 _ **I'll see y'inz soon in the Arena!~**_


	27. Day One

_-Santana, co-Head Gamemaker-_

"What are your predictions?" I sit in the library. It's about 1:30 in the morning, but the Gamemaking complex is still just as alive as it's ever been. The Games start tomorrow- er, well, later today, I suppose- and though we're ahead of schedule, we're making sure every little gimmick is perfect. I needed a break from the hustle and bustle, so I scheduled a meeting with my close friend and loyal colleague Ross McCafferty.

"Hard to say. As always, the bloodbath will define the structure of the Games. Sometimes major contenders make dumb decisions and fall early. The Career pack will either succeed or fail horribly. If the Career pack falls, outer District tributes will have a much stronger chance. However, we can't forget the alliance between Vidarr and Collin, either. Both of them have exhibited weapons skills of the Career level."

"And Serafina Anya?"

"She has that level of skill as well, but the girl from 12 may slow her down. There hasn't been an alliance between a Career District tribute and an outer district tribute in years. It could either fall apart or be a true threat."

"Right. What are the betters saying?"

"Well, there's a good share of them betting on Iridesce and Maggie, and Riella has a good number of betters on her as well. Collin and Vidarr have some as well, from their training scores, as does Kendal. And it appears as if Leo convinced people to look his way, even with the low score." I make a face at the mention of that little brat, but let him continue. "I haven't heard anything about people betting on Karima, and Raoul had a large following that was lost after his interview."

"Hm. Right."

We sit in silence, but for me, it's an uncomfortable, tense silence.

"Nervous?" Ross asks me. I swallow hard.

"Of course. This is my moment. What if the President hates it?"

"He won't. You've worked so hard on it. Maybe it'll look average at first, but the gimmick has never been done before and it's gonna knock their pants off."

"I sure hope so," I say, biting my lip.

Diesel appears in the doorway just then.

"Hey!" he goes in. "There you are!"

I rub my temples. He's still the weird, exhausted, _weeeee!_ kind of tired. I stopped with the sleepy giggles and am in pure exhausted misery mode at the moment.

"I think I'm going to go to bed soon." I rub my temples, wishing the headache would go away.

"You're not pulling an all-nighter!? I thought we were gonna be the last ones awake, Prude!"

"I'm getting sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a huge day." It's either going to make us or break us.

"Aw, isn't she lame Ross?" When he looks over at the other man, Ross has his head on the table, his orange hair shagging all over the table. He snores quietly and drools a bit. I laugh a little bit at the sight. "Well then."

"Aren't you nervous at all?" I ask Diesel, looking at his face. His bright blue eyes look confidently into mine.

"I'm fucking horrified," he says, a chipper smile on his face. "But I can't wait."

"Yeah. That about sums it up." I wrap my hand around Ike's locket, taking a shaking sigh. Tomorrow, people are going to die. I don't know who it will be, or how, but lives will be lost. That's just the nature of the Games. I feel a warm, heavy hand on my shoulder and glance up.

"Don't worry about it now," Diesel says, his voice slightly gentler. That doesn't help and he knows it. I don't relax at all. His thick black eyebrows crease in thought, then he goes to a drawer unit and opens the one on top, pulling out a Sharpie.

"Let's give McCafferty a moustache," he says, a devious grin spreading across his face.

That makes me laugh. "He'll be mad at us, though."

"Come on, you know you want to!"

"You're stupid." I can't stop grinning, though. "I still don't like you at all. But I can't resist the urge."

Diesel puts the marker under Ross's nose and starts drawing diligently. He does one side and I do the other, laughing.

"Should I draw a dick?" Diesel asks, considering.

"No, asshole."

"It'd be pretty funny. But I guess the moustache is enough."

"I'm going to throw your ass under the bus," I tell him. He laughs loudly, and Ross stirs but doesn't wake up.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Prude."

"Here's the list of suitable Victors, and the final order that the tributes will be lined up tomorrow." I've studied both lists of names on extensively.

Diesel puts the paper in my hands and grins at me. "Here we go. Our Games. Our creation."

I pause, blinking at him. He's never called it ours before… Only… His. I clear my throat. "Yes. Today's the day." He releases the paper.

"Oh, what a sweet and tender moment." The suddenness of Joltee's entrance makes me jump. Diesel tenses.

"What are you doing here?" Diesel asks, irritated.

"No reason in particular," he says. Then, his lips go up in a grin that contradict the statement. His eyes, a cruel pastel yellow, glance between us.

"Good, er, morning Mr. Rutilus." I smile politely, not letting my fear show in my posture.

"That's _President_ Rutilus to you," he says, and the room seems to drop three degrees.

"Not-"

"I came to tell you the horrible news. After a long struggle, our beloved President Coriolanus Snow passed away on Wednesday night." He puts his hand over his heart, but is still grinning, his eyes cold as eyes. "This news won't reach the public until midway through the Games, though, when it's convenient. That way we can hold our election, I can win and crown my first Victor. I hope whoever it is will be satisfactory."

"Definitely," I say. "Without a doubt."

Joltee smiles at me, but I know it's not genuine. Everything with him has an ulterior motive. "For the sake of you and Mr. Bundren, I do hope you're correct, Ms. Villanueva."

"You won't be disappointed."

"I hope not. For the sake of your dear friend with the moustache there, and, of course, for the sake of the precious pianist Viridian." The temperature drops even more, if possible. Diesel's demeanor has completely changed.

"I'll leave you to your work now," Joltee says, giving us a last smile before he turns around and leaves.

"Calm down," I warn Diesel, who looks like he wants to start yelling. "This is a stroke of genius, remember? It's going to be fine."

I glance over at Ross, who sleeps peacefully. I realize how painful it would be to lose him. "It has to be fine."

"I know." He says, but he's not smiling anymore. "I think I'm going to get some sleep after all." He leaves without another word. I sit on a beanbag, situating to get comfortable, and sleep comes easily.

~.~.

The Complex is bustling with people, all scrambling to finish their tasks. I look at the security feed, where all 24 tributes are talking with their stylists. Some, like the Careers, seem confident. Some, especially younger ones, are horrified.

"That one had a panic attack in the craft," Diesel says, noticing me watching Cory, her cheeks puffy.

I know what it's like. My heart breaks, but I keep it together on the exterior.

"This is the make or break moment," I say. "The second most important part of the Games, the first being the finale, of course."

"We can do it." Diesel grins at me and I muster up the courage to smile back.

"Right."

The tributes step into the tubes.

When they surface, they look around in confusion. The Arena around them is dark, constantly dark. The sun will never rise there. It's set in an amusement park that had been abandoned years ago. The entrance lies behind the tributes, but it's locked and nobody can go out. However, the small ticket booths could make a hiding place if someone small were to go in them. However, that's also risky because if you're caught, there's nowhere to run.

On the left, a rollercoaster that is old and shut down. The queue and cart provide smart hiding places, and the tallest hill, which is very accessible (Diesel and I sat up there the first night we were sitting and talking) and also the second highest point in the Arena. The highest point in the Arena is the top of the old ferris wheel. However, that's a slightly riskier climb for the tributes to make. There are old abandoned game booths, and some parts off the path are overgrown with trees. The third highest point is the top of some dirty old slides. There are also abandoned tents, an old, creepy fun house with mirrors, and an overgrown bumper-cars place. There are few trees, and there are some old spickets in the ground that look like they won't provide water, but do if you try. The question is, who will try? For food, the tributes can find rats running around, and other woodland animals. The climate is controlled, a chilly breeze in the darkness, but the jackets will protect the tributes from the breeze. There are some assorted snacks and provisions in some of the old food carts, but tributes will have to search. There's an old carousel, and an old ship ride. The Arena is vast and spread out, with a good number of places to hide but it's also very obvious where they're hiding.

"Start the countdown!" Diesel says, his voice full of energy. I never would've guessed he only got four or five hours of sleep at most. "It's time." He takes my hand and squeezes it, and I know that he must be thinking about Viridian right now.

I glance at the main screen, where Blaine and Saxon are talking animatedly. "What's this? They're saying that it's time for the Games to begin!" Blaine gushes and Saxon beams.

"Oh boy, this is the best part of the year. Everyone raise your glasses and say cheers to our co-Head Gamemakers Diesel Bundren and Santana Villanueva! How about we all give them a round of applause!?" the cameras show the Capitol Square, where there are thousands of people, all cheering and applauding. My heart swells, and thunders against my ribs. Diesel clutches my hand tighter.

"Here we go," he says. The cameras show the tributes. Each one is wearing a pair of breathable athletic pants, a T-shirt with the color of their District, and a light jacket with their District number on it. The countdown keeps going, and you can practically feel the tension, the tension in the Arena, the tension in the room.

We did our best to spread out the alliances, but kept the Careers in the middle, closest to the Cornucopia. The golden horn rests at the far edge of the Arena, the entrance to the park behind the arc of tributes. The Arena is at dusk, the lightest it's ever going to be there. It will keep on getting darker and darker as night lingers closer.

The countdown reaches zero, and the action begins. Diesel lets go of my hand to give commands on which cameras to switch to and when. I'm left in the middle, watching the action. To most District people, it just looks like a lot of people screaming and chaos. However, to a trained eye like mine, or Diesel's, we can break down and analyze everything that's happening, even when it all goes on at once.

The tributes all take off, as fast as they can. The first thing I notice is Amari from 6, tearing past the Cornucopia and running, and I notice Karima from District 9 doing the same, clutching her bunny as she goes. The two of them run, with their lives and intact, but with absolutely nothing.

Cory from 5 runs across the mouth, picking up snag of rope from the golden horn and retreating. Kendal from 7 gets in, taking a backpack and wrapping it around his shoulders before running out of there as fast as he can.

Edgard from 11 runs horizontally across the arc instead of dashing forward for the Cornucopia, taking Raoul from 10's hand and starting away, the same direction that Kendal went.

Felicity from 8 runs to the Cornucopia, crawling inside and looking for a weapon.

Iridesce is the first Career to reach the Cornucopia, picking up a spear and sending it through Felicity's back, who shrieks and collapses.

"She's dead," someone announces. And so the Games has taken its first: and second: casualty.

The other Careers are there and armed in no time. Riella from 7 has an axe, Callum from 1 has a morning star, a mace-like weapon, Maggie from 2 has a thin, sharp fencing foil, and Nautica from 8 has a machete. I don't think Nautica's realized that his District partner has been killed yet.

Collin from 4 and Vidarr from 2 attack the Cornucopia from opposite sides. Vidarr gets locked in a fight with Callum, dodging his attacks and grabbing a backpack first. Callum's weapon digs into Vidarr's shoulder as the boy from 2 grabs a belt of knives, hissing a swear word. He retaliates with his knife, giving payback in the form of a cut down Callum's forearm before running away.

At the same time, Collin had taken a trident and fights Iridesce. The girl from 1 primarily used spears for throwing, Diesel had mentioned, and he was right. She was out of her element using the weapon like this, even if her expression betrayed nothing. Iridesce's attention is taken when she notices another tribute. Collin wraps the straps of a portable sleeping bag around his shoulders, and the two boys run. On the way, they pass Leo, who decided to run from the Bloodbath (smart boy).

"C'mon, Four, you can do it," Diesel mutters under his breath. I see his expression creased. Collin jabs his trident at the boy from 12, hitting him in the back of the shoulder and sending him to the ground, but chokes.

"C'mon," Vidarr says, grabbing him by the sleeve, "He can be dealt with later." Collin nods silently, and the two boys continue on their way. Leo, injured but far from dead, manages to get to his feet, his expression twisted in pain, but he keeps going.

The boy from 3, meanwhile, is getting a backpack from the front of the Cornucopia with his allies. The girl from 3, Cyra, grabs a small backpack, and their other ally, Hamilton from 5, takes a backpack. Suddenly, though, their plan is halted when Iridesce puts her spear clear through Ductor's back. He falls, a look of shock on his face.

His District partner notices just then and lets out a scream. "Ductor!" The chaotic grief on her face is an emotion I recognize well. Their other ally, Hamilton from 5, screamed loudly, his eyes wide with shock. Cyra took his hand and started running, not looking back, but Iridesce had other plans. She skillfully threw a spear, and it hit the boy from Five square in the stomach. He gasped, but was still alive, just barely, as Cyra helped him get away.

Iridesce's work wasn't over yet, though, as she saw Martina from 11 fleeing with a sword. She threw another spear, hitting the girl in the shin and causing her to screech, but not stop.

While that's all happening, Serafina Anya from 4 meets up with Wren from 12, who was on the other side of the tribute arc from her. Together, the two girls go for it. Wren stays on the outside, picking up a lantern as Serafina Anya goes in, searching for a boomerang. In the meantime, though, her ally is clumsily fighting Maggie. Maggie gets quick jabs in at her, wearing the girl from 12 down. Serafina Anya, after failing to find what she was looking for and settling for a sword, turns around just in time to see Maggie finish her off. In shock, the girl from 4 turns to Maggie, probably trying to avenge her death. She lands a couple of hits on Maggie considering the sword is thicker than the foil, but Maggie is skilled. Riella helped out, though, striking the 4 girl down with her axe. Serafina Anya collapses next to her ally. Maggie and Rilla exchange a meaningful look before they go back into the heat of the action.

As soon as Riella was out of one fight, another begins. The girl from 6 runs to the golden horn, taking something from the outside, when she's stopped by Riella, who she starts to fight. The girl from 6 did her homework on hand-to-hand combat, getting some injuries in on Riella. She's much quicker and more agile than the girl from 7. Billie's quest was stopped short, though, as she was struck down by Callum's Morningstar, straight to the head. The boy from 1 tensed as she collapsed, freezing up.

The last battle was ongoing, between Rachel from 10, who had snagged a sword after Serafina Anya had dropped it, and Nautica from 8. When Rachel was gone getting the weapon, Nautica had challenged and injured her ally, Kade from 9. She had jumped in as soon as she could, yelling at the 8 boy to leave her ally alone.

Now, Kade has a small backpack on his shoulders and is locked in a fight with Maggie, while Iridesce is pursuing Martina. She gets in a couple blows on his shoulders and arms, but he holds his own well, defending himself with the spear against her attacks. He keeps glancing over at Rachel, waiting for her to run so that he can follow. However, her fight with Nautica is ongoing. They're both bloody and injured, and I wonder if either of them will make it out.

Finally, the boy from 8 puts his machete clear through Rachel's chest. In the few seconds of life she has left, the girl from 10 hisses a curse word and sends her sword through his stomach. He collapses, his eyes wide in shock. Both of them are dead, weapons lodged in the other's body.

Kade looks down, realizing that his ally and friend is dead. His eyes wide, he turns around and darts off the other way.

The other tributes are now separate, some, like Amari and Karima, are deep within the Arena. Some, though, are still around the Careers.

"How does Five look?" Diesel asks, as they switch the screen to where Cyra is curled up, sobbing and Hamilton is sitting with her.

"He's probably not going to die quite yet. If he does, it'll be a couple hours."

"And Leo?"

The cameras find him, clutching his injury and hissing.

"No. It appears all of them are stable."

"Then it's time to fire off our first cannons." Diesel grins and I force a smile back.

"Shooting the cannons." One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven. Not exactly a large bloodbath, but it's not that bad. Iridesce looks around, surveying the damage.

"Our next priority is to take stock of our supplies, and then look for a body of water."

The others nod, looking around.

"Maybe a vantage point?" Maggie suggests. She turns around and points to the tall hill of an old, dilapidated roller coaster, then to the top of a ferris wheel that went out of business a long time ago.

"That's a smart idea. I think first we should take stock," Riella says.

"Right." The Careers collect their winnings, everything they could possibly need, and start to go through the backpacks that remain.

"Switch the camera," Diesel says.

It finds Cory, where she twists the rope around in her hands, climbing up an overgrown tree to get a better vantage. Her steps are quiet, and I feel like if she hides out people could forget about her. Her flaming hair is the only thing that could possibly give her away.

After that, it goes on Leo, who's stumbled and found his way fairly close to her. I wonder if they'll end up being friends or foes. He's bleeding and doesn't have a bandage, so he wraps his jacket tight around his shoulder, wincing.

After that, it switches to Raoul and Edgard, who are exploring their surroundings and looking around. There's a looming air of anxiety as they have no supplies, but hopefully sponsors will help out. Kendal wanders closer to them.

"We'll have to watch that," I say. The confrontation could happen in as little time as a day.

The camera finds Vidarr and Collin. Collin got a sleeping bag. Inside of Vidarr's backpack, they have food, matches, one thermos, bandages, a small first aid kit, and a spool of rope. They don't really talk, just remaining to themselves as they store their winnings inside their backpack.

After that, the camera switches to Kade, who sits by himself. His eyes are full of tears, but he holds them back. He goes through the small backpack he got, which contains matches, a first aid kit and a knife. He also got a spear, that lays on the ground beside him.

Martina only got a spear, and is still trembling slightly. She didn't get injured badly, but I think this has all become more real to her by now.

Kendal pants as he empties his backpack. He finds a small thermos, matches, bandages, an extra shirt, and a knife, and is pleased as he takes his prizes. He looks slightly frazzled, and is always on alert.

Amari and Karima are hiding together in the bumper cars, crouching down behind the wall. She clutches her bunny tightly, and he reassures her with a smile. They didn't get anything, but Amari is still confident.

When the camera finds Cyra and Hamilton again, they're in one of the tents. Cyra's cheeks are puffy and her eyes are red, but she's recovered. She has a lantern on to better assess the damage. Luckily, though, Hamilton's backpack contains a roll of bandages, which was used quickly to stop the bleeding. He still has a chance. Cyra also has a small first aid kit in her backpack, and a flashlight. Hamilton's backpack, along with the bandages, also has a knife and food provisions.

The rest of the first day is uneventful. Diesel and I release hands as the anthem plays and the faces flash in the sky.

 _Ductor Romilly, District 3_

 _Serafina Anya Lecter, District 4_

 _Billie West, District 6_

 _Felicity Johnson, District 8_

 _Nautica Martinez, District 8_

 _Rachel Turner, District 10_

 _Wren Ponderosa, District 12_

"Rest in Peace," Diesel says, flashing me a smile. "Our dear tributes. Lost… But… Not forgotten."

A devious grin spreads slowly across his face.

"Send the first gimmick to our lovely Careers. Let's see how well they sleep tonight."

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Here we are! The Bloodbath is over!**_

 _ **To my seven angels: I am SO SORRY I had to take some Bloodbaths. I promise it isn't personal at all, and it isn't anything against your characters. I loved writing with them all and getting to know them and I hope that you enjoyed how I wrote them. However, please don't fret because their role in the story is far from over. You'll see what I mean soon. It was a very tough choice that took me a lot of time and effort. If you want me to explain my reasoning send me a PM, no problem! I know you're probably upset but I hope you're not mad at me and I hope you'll keep reading the story. Just trust me.**_

 _ **So, we're officially in the Games! You guys can move your tributes down to the Arena part of your list! :D I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I hope that nobody acted out of character in this chapter. I hope that you enjoyed it!**_

 _ **Oh, and something else! I've started doing chibis for these characters and putting them on the blog! I'm doing it by District, and since I started reapings with District 1, I'm starting chibis with District 12. I'm doing both tributes, the mentors, and the escorts. I hope you like them! They're not very good, but I think they're pretty cute and simple.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: How'd I do with the bloodbath!? Did you like seeing it from a Capitolite POV like Santana? Did you think it was realistic and fair? Let me know what you think!**_

 _ **Thanks so much for the support and I hope you're as excited as I am for what's to come!**_

 _ **OH! SHIT! I NEED TO DO SPONSOR SHIT! Alright, I'm gonna do my best because inflation due to SOME people that hAVE LIKE ALMOST SIX HUNDRED POINTS WHAT THE FUCK YOU GUYS but here are the prices of everything. If there's something you want to get that isn't on the list, please let me know! I'll tell you how much it costs! You can also combine points with someone else if you want! Also, each sponsor gift gives you the opportunity to send a note with your present. So yeah, send me PMs!**_

 _ **Prices:**_

 ** _Battery (for flashlight/lanterns): 10_**

 ** _Small Canteen (Empty): 15_**

 ** _Large Canteen (empty): 20_**

 ** _Bandages: 20_**

 ** _Blanket: 20_**

 ** _Compass: 25_**

 ** _Simple foods (bags of jerky, crackers, or dried fruit): 28_**

 ** _Pillow: 30_**

 ** _Basic First-Aid Kit: 35_**

 ** _Socks/shoes/shirts/extra articles of clothing: 35_**

 ** _Functioning Flashlight: 40_**

 ** _Small Canteen (with water): 50_**

 ** _Iodine (to disinfect water): 55_**

 ** _Well-functioning Lantern: 60_**

 ** _Matches: 68_**

 ** _Large Canteen (with water): 70_**

 ** _Night-vision goggles: 75_**

 ** _Functioning Sleeping Bag: 75_**

 ** _Knife: 90_**

 ** _High-Quality Food (bread from a District, meat, broth/soup): 90_**

 ** _Tribute's Favorite Capitol Meal: 100_**

 ** _Medicine: 100_**

 ** _Complex First-Aid Kit: 103_**

 ** _Tribute's weapon of choice: 120_**

 ** _Arena Map: 200_**

 ** _SCORES:_**

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 41**_

 _ **Apollo's Slytherpuff Daughter: 103**_

 _ **bagelswift: 2**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 16S**_

 _ **CptAwesome: 10**_

 _ **Culturalchicken: 2**_

 _ **Dreamer: 566**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 170**_

 _ **eldergrayskull: 4**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 292**_

 _ **epictomguy: 24**_

 _ **erica1024 (I'm assuming you're the same person who reviewed as a guest named Erica, but let me know if you're not!): 16**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 64**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **GirlOnFire (assuming you were also the guest with no title): 20**_

 _ **GryffindorOnFire: 9**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 500**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 12**_

 _ **Jess: 592**_

 _ **johnsonmiranda70: 6**_

 _ **Josephm611: 217**_

 _ **Kate: 518**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 112**_

 _ **Legend: 559**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 182**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Master Maedhros: 10**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **OncerTillTheEnd: 4**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 197**_

 _ **PrimroseEverdeenmyLittleDuck: 10**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 80**_

 _ **Red Roses1000: 5**_

 _ **ReignRain: 2**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **Sagerose the Divergent: 10**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 116**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 32**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **stop-pulling-on-mariazell: 30**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **starrymidnight16: 4**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 5**_

 _ **the victor of panem: 61**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 71**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 246**_

 _ **youngpatriot: 5**_


	28. Night 1, Day 2

_The first night_

* * *

-Riella, D7F-

The Arena is extremely spacious and dark. I thought we might have arrived at night, but it seems to only get darker. My eyes are getting exhausted from the darkness, but luckily when we surveyed our supplies we found lanterns and night-vision goggles. The light is nice to see as my eyes adjust to the darkness.

Iridesce led the rest of the Careers past the roller coaster. We decided to camp out here and regroup with our supplies for the night, and climb it to get a fresh view in the morning. Granted, we have no clue what time it is, and really won't have much of an idea when the morning really is. The change is very gradual, from dark to even more dark, but once it's even darker you know.

And, with the night brings silence. There's no breeze. Everything is still, and totally silent. It's almost eerie, the silence we're sitting in. Too quiet. Unnerving. I keep thinking about the tributes I fought. The look on Billie's face as she was struck, the bits of brains and blood that exploded everywhere. The blood that shot out of Serafina Anya in reward for my attacks. It's sick. We decide to keep two people on watch, even though we only have one pair of night vision goggles. Maggie and I stay awake first, and I have the goggles first.

I look around, keeping a constant eye out for another threat. Iridesce and Callum sleep peacefully, not minding the lights of the few lanterns we have set up. I keep my eyes peeled. Maggie and I sit in silence for a while.

"R…Riella?" her voice was smaller than before.

I glance over. "What?"

"D…Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" I blink at her. Her face looks scared, almost.

"Nothing. Never mind. I… I must be going crazy."

"Alright…" I say, and we go back into silence. I glance over at Maggie again, and see her shifting uncomfortably. "…Maggie?"

"Yeah?" her voice is high-pitched and jittery. I don't know what's going on with her.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Sorry."

I take the night vision goggles off, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. I hand them over to her. "Take these."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks." She puts them on quickly.

It's dark. Really dark. I can't even see the stains of blood on my shirt. I can't see my hand where it rests in my lap. I can see why she was unsettled. The stillness, the silence, is really tense. Every once in a while I feel a chill and shiver, but can't find where a breeze might be coming from.

Suddenly, in the silence, I hear something. It's hard to tell if it's an actual noise or all in my head. In the darkness, the stillness, it's hard to tell. I shift positions, hoping that moving might allow me to get my thoughts back. The noise doesn't stop. It went from a buzzing, like my ears are ringing, to a tangible noise that kind of sounds like.

"Maggie." The District 2 girl looks over. My heart starts to beat harder with panic. "I hear it. I hear it now. I put my hands over my ears, and the noise mutes, ever so slightly. It's on the outside. They're sending it here to mess with us. "You're alright."

"I still hear it," she whispers, her voice shaking slightly. "With the goggles I still hear it."

"Don't focus on that. You can see things. You know there's nothing there." I look around, the feeling of not knowing, the possibility that a tribute or a mutt or anything could be five feet away from us and I couldn't even see it, torturing me. I didn't think it would be this unnerving.

"Riella…"

"There's nothing there," I tell her. "Right?"

"N-No…" I hear her moving, probably looking around. I can't see her well enough to know.

I hear another voice just then. "What the fuck?"

Maggie gasps, startled, at the sudden statement. "Iridesce," she says.

"I hear it too." We all stay silent. The noise sounds that it's ringing inside of my head, forcing me to hear it. It doesn't go away, though. It sounds like it's both quiet and loud at the same time. Enough to make someone lose their head. I can't imagine how the others feel, those left in darkness, those that are alone. I don't know how they managed it.

The noise stops just then, or I think it does. Maybe I just tuned it out.

"I don't know what's going on, but…" Iridesce pauses. Her voice betrays apprehension. "Maggie, give me the goggles. Are you sure there's nothing there?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Definitely not."

"Let me see." Iridesce's voice has taken more of an edge, so Maggie obeys. I hear her moving, probably taking off the goggles and putting them in Iridesce's hands. The noise starts again, ever so quietly at first, then getting gradually louder.

"No," Callum says, from where he's still laying down. "No."

"Callum, it's okay. It's not just you." Iridesce keeps a level head.

"It's all of us," I say.

"It's…" Maggie starts, voice still quivering slightly.

"We're going to figure it out."

"They're just fucking with us," I say. I think the straightforwardness of it snaps the others back into reality.

"Right."

"They're going to make some of the other tributes feel pretty scared, but we're better than that," Iridesce says. "We're stronger."

"Right," Maggie says, but her voice is still small.

"I'll stay up," Iridesce says.

"I will too," I say quickly. I don't want to try to sleep, even with the lanterns and with two trained tributes being on watch.

There's a moment of silence, as the other two have the unspoken words _"I don't want to go to sleep"_ on their lips. After all, even though they're Careers, they're not invincible. Deep down, they're just the same as any of us. They still have to rely on luck just as much as skill.

They're still teenagers, just like all of us.

The other two lie down, trying to get comfortable. I hear Iridesce moving around, trying to figure out what to do. Part of me wants to talk to her, just to drown out the noise, but the other part doesn't know what to talk about. I have to get back to Andy, so I try to not focus on the noise. I look around in the darkness, illuminated only a bit by the lanterns.

I feel relieved after an eternity passes and Iridesce says, "Let's wake the others."

I lay down in the sleeping bag, still warm from Maggie's heat and laced with her scent. I close my heavy eyes, and feel relieved.

The noise doesn't stop, though. It echoes around my head like a buzzing, ringing noise. Sometimes I'm tricked into believing it's all in my head, and squeeze my eyes shut.

The noise buzzes, even as I drift to sleep. It's far away, ever-so-small, just enough to push someone over the edge. But it's unmistakable.

The sound of a baby crying off in the distance.

~.~.

-Edgard, D11M-

The coming of the night brings pitch blackness. Raoul and I found a merry-go-round, something I'd only read about in fantasy books, and are now hiding in it. The old horses are falling apart, the paint cracking. I don't think the ride can move anymore, I sure hope it doesn't. We stay huddled together against the wall, hiding. The darkness means I can't see the horses anymore, which is more calming than I could. I can't see anything at all, and the stillness makes my heart beat harder.

I'm lying on Raoul's lap right now, trying to get some sleep. It's hard, though. Really hard. The silence is tangible, and a chill runs down my spine even though I didn't feel a breeze.

Suddenly I hear something, a cracking noise, maybe a gunshot or something of the source, someone laughing, cackling. It echoes, as if it's all in my brain. I sit straight up.

"Raoul." It's dark, I can't see him, I can't see anything, and I start to panic. "What's happening?"

"I don't know," he says quietly. "Sounded kind of like…"

"I know," I say quietly. I hear another crack, louder, and wonder if I'm just thinking this or if it's really real.

"It's fine. Edgard. It's alright."

I nod, but can't stop myself from quivering. It sounds like the sounds are coming closer and closer, like a serious threat is coming.

"I can't sleep, Raoul. What if something's coming!?" I want to clutch onto his arm or something, but resist the temptation. It's so dark I have no idea where his arms are anyways.

"We should probably look around," Raoul says. "Take my hand." I do as he says, and he starts walking around the ride, staying by the circular wall. We keep our eyes out, but all I can see is blackness. I still hear gunshots in the background, and that same laughing.

Raoul, at losing the wall where the entrance is, suddenly trips and hits the ground, and I go down with him, landing on my knees.

"You alright?" I ask.

He stays where he is for a second. "Yeah." He sighs. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

We stay like that for a second, but this time I don't hear the gunshots. I hear a small sound, something like whimpering. I wish I could mouth words to Raoul or signal to avoid being heard, but that isn't an option.

I hear the gunshots come back, quieter this time, and that same whimpering. Raoul makes it back to his feet, and I do too.

The whimpering soon turns to words. "Stop, stop, stop, stop…"

I recognize that voice. I squeeze Raoul's hand and whisper, "It's Kendal."

"What should we do?" Raoul whispers back.

"I… I don't know." I think about what Donavan said, about how allies can be dangerous. But at the same time, he's totally alone out there. Maybe he could be valuable to us.

"Stop please stop make it stop…" Kendal's voice is whispery and wobbly, laced with fear and misery. I hear the gunshots, and even though I know that they're not in my head, I still feel like I'm going crazy. How can I leave him like this?

"Come on Edgard," Raoul says quietly. "Watch your step." He steps down off the ride and I follow, almost losing my balance. He starts walking forward, me following him blindly. Suddenly, I trip over something, someone, and fall. He screams at the top of his lungs, a piercing sound, causing me to be even more startled.

"Woah, sorry there, hold on!" Raoul says. "We're not going to hurt you."

I hear some last sobs fizzling out of the 7 boy. I can't see him, I don't know if he has a weapon, but he might. He could kill both of us right now before we even knew what was happening.

I stumble to my feet, reaching for Raoul again. I can't find him, though.

"It's Raoul. And Edgard's here too."

"I'm here."

"Wh-What are you doing?" Kendal's voice still quivers. "What's happening?"

"We were just wo-" Raoul starts, but I cut him off, finding something else to say. We need a better excuse than that.

"We heard some sounds and were looking around to make sure there are no threats," I say quickly. Better.

"I heard it too," he says, sniffling quietly. "Gunshots. And laughing." He whimpers again as I hear more of the shots.

"We found a good place to hide out," I say. "It's not good for you to be exposed like this."

"Come with us," Raoul says. "I think I can make the noise stop." I feel him touch my lower back and reach around to find his hand.

"It's up to you," I say to Kendal.

There's a long pause. He speaks again, "Alright." I hear him moving, the sound of a backpack or something being put over his shoulders. I feel him touch my shoulder and take his hand.

"Okay," I say, "Let's go." Raoul goes first, I follow, and Kendal goes with me. I have no idea where we're going in the dark, following Raoul blindly. We wander around for a while, much more time than it took us to find Kendal, totally blind. It's a relief when my shin hits the merry-go-round and we're back in familiar territory. Raoul moves around to the entrance, and goes in, helping us up the step.

"It's a carousel," Raoul says. "Do you know what that is?"

"Yeah," Kendal says. "I've read about them."

"We're hiding out in here," I say. "But… The noises are really unsettling."

"Y-Yeah." Raoul sits down, and I do the same. Kendal sits last.

"The noise goes away when we talk," Raoul says. "So you two go to sleep. I'll do my best to help you." That's good enough for me. I lean sideways against him, resting my head on his shoulder. I hear Kendal shifting, but he doesn't come into contact with me.

Then, Raoul starts to hum. It's quiet, and not the best voice I've ever heard, but still better than I could've done. He hums a melody that he seems to know well, but I don't recognize. The sound of his voice overpowers the delusional laughing and the gunshots, causing me to feel more at ease.

I actually start to feel sleepy at the soothing sound of his voice, solid and genuine and real.

I close my eyes, and sleep comes easily to the sound of Raoul's voice, humming melodies.

* * *

 _The second day_

* * *

-Edgard, D11M-

When I wake up, both of my allies are already awake, talking quietly. I wonder if Kendal's going to stay with us or not. I wouldn't blame him either way. I don't know what I'd do if I were him. It seems that being alone at night with the noises isn't the best way to be. I definitely couldn't have slept last night if it hadn't been for Raoul.

"What were you humming?" Kendal asks quietly.

"Well, I started out with one of my favorites. It's called Lullaby Set, it's pretty simple. Then, I was humming some stuff that I came up with. There's not too much sheet music I can get my hands on so when I was bored I used to come up with melodies."

"Oh, wow. That's cool."

"Thanks."

I sit up and rub my eyes. In the morning dusk, I can make out their figures, and, when I move closer, see their faces. It's a relief to have some kind of vision again.

"Morning," I say, yawning.

"Hey, you're finally awake."

"Huh?"

Raoul passes me a container. "This came down this morning. It's for you."

"Oh." I open it up to see bags of food. My stomach rumbles just thinking about it. "Oh! It's some jerky."

"Nice," Raoul says, as I take out the bags. There's another thing in there, a piece of paper. I squint to make out the words.

"What does it say?"

"It says…" I squint.

"Lemme see," says Kendal. "I'm used to reading in the dark. Did it a lot back home."

I pass the paper over, and watch his expression as he reads it. "It says… _Always keep your eyes open for your surroundings but never forget home._ "

"Oh. That's nice."

"Good advice."

"We can put that in my backpack if you want," Kendal says. "I have matches, a thermos that's empty, a roll of bandages, a piece of clothing, I think a shirt, and a knife."

"Wow, that's a good haul."

"Not the necessities, though. We need to find water, and see what they expect us to do for food."

"That's a good idea," says Raoul. "We can't hide here forever."

"Did you stay up all night?" I ask Raoul as we all stand up.

"Yeah. It's fine, though. I'll be alright."

"You should sleep tonight, though," Kendal says. "For sure."

Raoul starts walking, and the two of us following. Now that we have some kind of light, I can see my allies well enough that we don't need to hold hands to move around. Kendal has his knife out, just in case. Not too far from the carousel is a little pipe sticking out of the ground. We find it when Raoul stumbles and almost falls on it.

"It looks like… A faucet."

"Kind of rusty, though."

"We should try it. This could be the key." Kendal reaches over and starts trying to turn it on. "It… Might be stuck. Gosh darn," he hisses, trying to turn it on.

"Want me to-" before I can finish the question, we hear the flow of running water and a delighted, "Yes!" Kendal starts going through his backpack to find the canteen.

I put my hands under the water and rub it on my face, which feels really good and energizing. Kendal fills up his canteen first and gulps down water. I just put my face under the faucet, because why not? Raoul does the same. Swallowing down the water, even though it's warm, is a relief to me. Kendal refills his canteen again and screws the lid on. While we're there, we decide to each take half a piece of jerky for the afternoon. The carousel is a good spot, though, so we spend some time searching for food in what I think will be the brightest part of the day.

Then, we go back to the carousel and regroup, where we sit for the rest of the evening.

~.~.

-Kade, D9M-

I'm tired that morning from spending it awake and on watch. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, luckily, but the darkness was cold and dead and silent all night.

I can't believe Rachel died because of me. It's a burden I have to carry, and a debt I don't think I'll ever be able to repay. The pain of knowing that she's gone is torture. The feeling seeing her face in the sky, on the first day, made me feel fucking _useless_. After everything I'd done with Sofia, after everything I'd done, it wasn't enough. She had to save my ass and she died protecting it. What kind of ally, what kind of person lets that happen?! I can't believe I didn't even try to _stop_ her! I can't believe I let her die like that. I failed her and let her down and now I'm here by myself and it's my own stupid fault.

I've been left alone before, I suppose the feeling shouldn't be anything new. I lost my sister to the Games, I did nothing to save her. I lost my family. I lost everything. Now, I just lost everything again. I can't believe this happened.

I make myself get up, as hard as it is. I know I have to find food, water, I know that I have to get back to Sofia. I know that I still have to fight. But losing Rachel so early on, watching her die and not being able to do anything to help her… Takes a toll.

I see a little glowing thing floating down from the sky, and hear it beeping quietly, becoming louder as it comes closer. It's a small container, but it's from a sponsor. Surprised, I go over, opening it up and finding a small vial in there. There appears to be a dropper with it, leading me to assume that it's iodine.

I was able to clean out and patch up most of my injuries thanks to a first-aid kit that is now in my backpack, and they do feel slightly better now than they did before. I know that, through the aching pain of the injuries and the even worse pain of my heartache, I still need to keep going. I need to find water, and food. I need to do everything I can to get out of this hell as soon as I possibly can.

I know that my supplies are limited, and that today's going to be a long, tough day. I start walking, holding the spear I won at the Cornucopia up defensively. I wish I'd spent more time training with it, but it's too late for that now. All I can do is my very best, through all the pain and sadness and loss.

I wander around, not wanting to go too far if I don't have to, but desperate to find food or water. I see a fat little rodent just then, and quickly put out my spear to kill it as quickly as possible. The rat gets away, though, and I know I missed.

"Dammit," I hiss, frustrated at myself. I can't believe I got stuck with an unfamiliar weapon that I suck at.

I find another rodent, bigger, this time, and seemingly slower. This time, I do succeed in killing it. I remember back to how they taught us to skin our kills, and decide to wait until after it's much darker to light a fire, hoping that the darkness will overpower the smoke. The dead rat stinks and doesn't smell like a good meal, but I know I'm going to appreciate it later. I wander around, looking for anything, but don't find anything.

Finally, when I decide I can't take carrying this carcass around for any longer, I sit and start a fire to cook the rat.

Dinner time.

~.~.

-Martina, D11F-

That morning, after a peaceful night spent half sleeping and half being up on watch, I take note of my supplies.

It's really not much, but it's something. My leg still screams in pain and complains when I try to move it thanks to Iridesce, but other than that I'm alright. I'm glad to have a weapon, at least. Weapons are the hardest things to find.

Last night was slightly nerve-wracking, though. Trying to see and defend myself when it was so dark. But that doesn't matter, really. At least I have some way to defend myself, even if I'm not very good with it.

I see a couple of parachutes floating down, glowing and beeping. I don't realize that they're for me until they're practically in my hands already. I can't believe that this is really going on. I got sponsors, which means I have supplies! I quickly open the containers to find what they might have.

The first one contains another weapon. This time, though, it's one that I can use well. I pull out the spiked knuckles, in awe that I could get a weapon of choice quite as nice as this. I quickly arm myself with the weapons. I know that I won't go down without a fight now. Not that I would before, but now I can really defend myself and my family and my home.

I open the other one and find a small box with a handle that I immediately find to be a first aid kit. I quickly open that up, too. I need to clean out my wound before it gets infected, no matter how horribly it hurts. I drip the rubbing alcohol on my shin, causing me to hiss and groan, wanting to scream as the pain sears. Soon, though, it starts to fizz away, and I use my pants to dab at it, hissing some more through my teeth. It's torture and misery as it stings and burns. I don't have bandages for it, but at least it's clean.

After that, I know that I'm going to have to walk on it. After all, I still need to find food and water. I pick up the sword and put my weapon of choice in my pockets (not having a better place to put them without wearing them), knowing that it's going to be easier to hunt with that than it would be with spiked knuckles. I walk around the side of a tall building, not daring to go inside. I walk for a while, or what feels like a while, though I don't know how long it really is. I find an old cart there, though, and inside it is bits of jerky, crackers, and cheese. My eyes, usually wide, widen even more with the surprise of finding food.

I don't have any way to carry it, so I take a handful and eat before putting some more in my back pockets for later. I know they want to bring us back here often, trying to make tributes interact. Right now, though, I know that I need to eat, and I'll need to come back to keep eating. I don't think anyone else has found these yet, and if they have then they've covered their tracks well. Though part of me is tempted to stake out and wait in the darkness for others to come, but I'm really not a killer and wish I could avoid it, so I decide to leave it for now.

However, if things get desperate, I will do what I need to do to get back to my family and Jackson, so it's a strategy to keep in mind.

Other than the sponsor gifts and finding food, I've had a pretty boring day without a lot of action. But, that's perfectly fine by me.

For now.

~.~.

-Cory, D5F-

I wake up and immediately feel wobbly. The tree I'd climbed last night is the sturdiest I could find while not having a lot of time to find it. I heard footsteps coming up on me and knew I had to hide. I went up as fast as I could and secured myself around the thick branch with rope.

I know that this is only going to serve as a temporary hiding place, but now it's as good as any. The Arena is so dark all the time that it'd be hard to spot me up here unless you had a flashlight. The darkness works to my advantage, and probably to the advantage of anyone else who's hiding.

Yesterday when I came here, I heard someone else. It's too dark to see who, but they look to have a large figure. I don't care to see who it is until I see a sponsor parachute come down out of the sky, glowing with a flashing light so I can see it, and, of course, the beeping.

I struggle to reach it while I'm still up in the tree. They can't exactly put it in a good place for me right now. The glowing parachute lands on a thin, brittle branch. I untie myself to reach it, but my branch starts to crack when I shift my weight. The smaller, weaker branch collapses under the weight of the parachute. The parachute and whatever's in it goes falling down the tree and hits the ground, and all I can do is watch. I feel the branch under me cracking and realize that I'm going to fall if I don't move soon. I hurriedly untie myself from the branch and grab the trunk, climbing down the tree.

I grab my rope and start rolling it up again when I notice the glowing parachute being lifted, someone trying to use it as a light source to see me. I can't see much of the person, and take a step closer. I can't say that I mean no harm. I can't say anything. Which means I also can't say that the parachute belongs to me.

"Who are you?" comes a voice that I've had trouble associating with a face. "Step back. Or into the light."

I realize that this isn't going to work at all in the dark. He has to see me if I want to communicate with him. And all we have is this parachute, the light of which is already dying away and fading. I know that I can't do anything to help it. I'm going to have to figure out how I can communicate with him without him being able to see or hear me.

I reach out and take his wrist, hoping he can make out my silhouette enough to know that it's me. I feel him jump when I touch his wrist, no matter how gentle I try to be. My heart is hammering hard in my chest, waiting for him to react.

"District Five."

I nod quickly, dramatically so that he can see my silhouette moving with the motion.

"You've been up there a long time?"

I nod quickly, moving in closer so he can see me better. I can see him and notice that his hair's messed up slightly, his eyes look tired from not a lot of sleep last night, but he looks alright.

"I didn't even know it until you came down." I don't let go of his wrist, even though I can see his face and figure fairly well. I don't know why I keep holding onto him. Maybe just to make sure he doesn't run away with my parachute. Maybe for a sense of security, an anchor in the darkness. I didn't really care about alliances, until last night. All I could hear was a voice, a voice that whispered, "It should've been you, not me. It should've been you" It was in the back of my head all night long, torturing me.

I hold onto Leo's wrist, not letting go.

"What have you got?" he asks. I hold up the rope and put it in his hands, so he can feel it. "This it?" I nod affirmatively.

"I ran away from the Cornucopia." He squats down and I follow. "I think this is a first aid kit."

I nod. I don't imply or motion that it could be mine. I don't think I need to. He suddenly turns his hand and catches my grip in his. "Stick with me," he says. "Think you can help me with something? I have an injury on my shoulder, and it needs cleaned at the very least. I nod at him, and I feel my knees hit the ground as he turns around. "On the back of the shoulder." It's hard to miss, really, even in the dark. The dark, seemingly endless black holes on his shoulder, either from a spear or- "Collin got me with his trident." I nod and look through the first aid kit, trying to figure out what's what when it's so hard to see.

I pick out a little bottle of liquid, and when I open it up I'm met with the familiar odor of rubbing alcohol. When I put it on his shoulder, he hisses, the slightest grunts being pushed from his throat. I want to say sorry, but can't speak so I just keep working, trying to dab the wound as fast as I can to minimize the pain. We both know that the pain will be less after this is over, now that the injury is cleaned out.

"Thanks. I couldn't have reached that by myself." I put the bottle back in the kit and close it up the best I can without being able to see much.

I nod a bit as he pulls his jacket back on and stands up. I stand as well, not sure what now. I feel warmth as he takes my hand again and squeezes it lightly. "Stay with me," he says. "I couldn't run too far yesterday because I was injured and bleeding, but we need to try and find water and food. I don't want to lose you in the dark, so let's stay connected."

I nod, picking up the first aid kit and the rope with the other hand and glancing at him. I wish I could see more of his face, his expression, in the dark.

He starts walking, and I walk beside him.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Here we are with another Arena chapter! I'm sorry it was really slow, I promise the action is going to pick up now that everyone's getting used to the Arena.**_

 _ **So, here's some news stuff: I posted the Arena map on the Silhouettes blog if you're interested in seeing where your tribute is and where they're going. I might make some minor adjustments to it but it's the basic idea at least.**_

 _ **Also, I have a list on my profile of the tributes/alliances, what they have and what they need to make sponsoring more convenient. I'll update it after I post each chapter. If you feel like sponsoring, take a look at that.**_

 _ **Also, I'm still working on chibis for all the characters! I've been kind of slacking on that lately but I should get back to it soon. I just want to write and get far on this, and writing 42 as well. I hope you enjoyed this chapter even though it was slightly slow, and I hope you liked the first glance at the gimmick!**_

 _ **Also, I think I'm making a new rule about sponsoring: no tribute can be sponsored by the same person two days in a row. Just to prevent gift dumps. Also, about sponsoring: even though I did put everyone that sponsored into this chapter, I probably won't do that in the future. It was way too much filler. So if you sponsor, your gift will be received, but I may not write a tribute receiving every gift. Because I did it this chapter and it was so slow and boring. So for future reference.**_

 _ **I feel like there was something else I had to say. Hm. I dunno. Oh well. The action will pick up more in the next chapters.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: What are your thoughts on the gimmick? Cool, weird, hard to figure out? Do you have a clue what it's all about?**_

 _ **Scores:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 41**_

 _ **Apollo's Slytherpuff Daughter: 113**_

 _ **bagelswift: 2**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 165**_

 _ **CptAwesome: 10**_

 _ **Culturalchicken: 2**_

 _ **deathless. smile: 15**_

 _ **Dreamer: 591**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 175**_

 _ **eldergrayskull: 4**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 292**_

 _ **epictomguy: 24**_

 _ **erica1024 (I'm assuming you're the same person who reviewed as a guest named Erica, but let me know if you're not!): 16**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 64**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **GirlOnFire (assuming you were also the guest with no title): 20**_

 _ **GryffindorOnFire: 9**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 460**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 12**_

 _ **Jess: 622**_

 _ **johnsonmiranda70: 6**_

 _ **Josephm611: 227**_

 _ **Kate: 543**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 112**_

 _ **Legend: 559**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 182**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Master Maedhros: 10**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **OncerTillTheEnd: 4**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 24**_

 _ **PrimroseEverdeenmyLittleDuck: 10**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 80**_

 _ **Red Roses1000: 5**_

 _ **ReignRain: 2**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **Sagerose the Divergent: 10**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 116**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 32**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **stop-pulling-on-mariazell: 30**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **starrymidnight16: 4**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 10**_

 _ **the victor of panem: 61**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 71**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 246**_

 _ **youngpatriot: 10**_

 _ **Thanks for reading everyone! Reviews are very appreciated!**_


	29. Day 2, Night 2

_The second day_

* * *

-Karima, D9F-

I wake up from where I was curled up in a tight ball in one of the still cushioned little cars that are still on the ride. It was dark and silent, but I at least had my bunny. My bunny is my home. My grandmother. It sill smells slightly like her house. It helped me to sleep and think of home. So far, we've made it through two days, but today we need to start scavenging for food or water.

"We need to start moving," Amari says. His voice is slightly deeper than usual and he sounds like he didn't get much sleep last night. I hate this, staying up through half the night. I'm a growing girl that needs sleep, after all, this is exhausting me and really draining my energy. I suppose it's doing the same for him. "We need to find food and water. Maybe something we can use for a weapon. I mean, we can really use help. After all, we have nothing. I know you're out there, sponsors!" he says, a light air around him. Hopefully that got some people to laugh.

"Right." I take his sleeve in one hand, holding my bunny with the other. We find the entrance to the ride and walk out into the Arena beyond. Amari seemed pretty certain that sponsors would jump to give us things, but I feel like I might be holding him back. After all, he did much better on the pre-Games stuff than I did… I know that I just have to keep on doing my best and showing Amari up whenever I can, just to prove that it's still worthwhile to have me around. When he starts walking, I walk with him, going quickly to keep up.

We walk together, silently. The silence is unsettling, and though I can see him fairly well beside me, I still wish we would break it. We walk for a while, and my stomach grumbles and complains, aching and wishing for food. Amari is quiet.

We're walking when we find a spicket in the ground, looking back in surprise.

"Maybe this will be a help…" Amari says, starting to turn at the handle. He grimaces with effort, trying to get it to move.

"Maybe it's just there to trick us," I say, my mouth feeling dry with thirst. I want this to have water just as he does.

"I'm not giving up," he says, concentrating and focusing as best as he can.

Suddenly, the need to surpass him comes back. "Let me try."

He shrugs a bit, letting go and stepping aside.

 _Alright Karima_ , I think, feeling waves of determination pulse through me. _Show everyone that you're much better than him._ I grab the rusty dial in my hands and hold it tight, pulling it around with all my might. I think about all the times I've one-upped Ferris back home, and use that to motivate me. Just because this guy's from District 6 doesn't mean that I can't outdo him too. I use all the strength I have to try and get it to budge.

Just then, though, I feel a slight give, and put all the effort I can into the last stretch until I get it to pop, and hear the sound of flowing water.

"Wow, you did it!" he sounds slightly surprised.

"Of course I did. I'll use it first," I say, knowing that I won the opportunity when I was the one that gave us water in the first place. I put my hands under the water first, and though it's warm, it feels wonderful. I put my bunny on the ground as I wash my face off and cup my hands to collect water, taking a drink. Amari kneels next to me and does the same.

"That's not too far from our base," Amari says, pointing the direction we came from where I see the silhouette of the ride in the distance.

"Oh. Yeah." We both stand up, turning off the water. Amari keeps walking, and I follow him.

We're a little while's away when I realize I forgot something.

"My bunny!" I say. A wave of horror washes over me as I quickly go back the way we came.

"Karima!" Amari runs after me.

I run and run, as fast as I can, until I see the spicket there and my bunny intact, just where I left it. I quickly pick it up and hug it tightly, burying my nose in it to get the familiar smell. I quiver and breathe hard with tears, but luckily I got the bunny back before I could start crying.

Amari catches up with me just then, panting from the run. "What the hell, Karima? You can't just run off like that."

"I lost it!" I say, gasping a bit as the tears haven't fully gone away yet. "I almost left it! It's alright, I have it now… It's alright… It's alright."

"You had me worried sick!" he says.

"I'm sorry," I say, sniffling a bit. "I'm really sorry."

There's a moment of tense silence, he looks kind of frustrated, but he relaxes again. "Just… Don't worry me like that again, alright?"

"Yeah," I agree, feeling relieved.

"C'mon. Let's keep going."

"A-Actually, I need a minute…" I say, still shaking slightly with the panic and fear of almost losing it. Amari nods and sits with me, keeping an eye out for other tributes. We sit like that until I get ahold of myself, rinsing my face with water. It takes a while, maybe close to an hour, for me to feel well enough to keep walking.

"S-Sorry," I say quietly, embarrassed for my outburst. "Let's keep going."

It's getting later, and darker, but we keep on going anyways.

We keep walking. After a bit, I see the silhouette of something dashing in front of us, and jump, letting my bunny go in surprise.

"Just a rat," Amari says, but I can tell by the look on his face that he was spooked by it too. "Nothing big and scary. Just a rat."

"Right." I quickly pick up my bunny and we keep on walking, neither of us talking.

After a while of wandering fruitlessly, we reach a building that looks old and dilapidated, but decide not to go in. We skim the perimeter instead, until we hear footsteps.

"Wh-Who is that?" I ask. It looks like a big figure, probably armed, maybe with an ally or maybe not. All I know is that we need to get out of there.

Amari stays close to the wall, and I do the same. He looks out around the corner, and I do the same. I can't make out who the silhouette is, though. Looks to be a big person, though. And I can tell that they have a weapon, a big weapon.

The footsteps come closer, and Amari turns around, pulling me along to run. I stumble after him, startled by the sudden motion. In the way, my grip releases on the other side, and I realize before I know it that my bunny slips out of my grip.

"Amari!" I yell. "Amari! We need to stop! Amari!" I feel panic wash over me, desperation to get back there and get it.

He doesn't stop, though, he keeps running, away, far away. He runs until we reach the bumper cars again, pulling me inside as I feel tears come to my eyes. I just want to stop, I have to go back and get it, I have to find it. I have to get it. I have to find it. I need my Gram, I need my home, I need it!

"Amari!" I yell. He doesn't listen. He doesn't let me go either. I feel tears of desperation and sadness hit my eyes, and this time I don't hold them back. I let out sobs as Amari keeps on pulling me along. He pulls me until we reach the ride again, going in quickly.

"AMARI WE HAVE TO GO BACK!" I feel desperation clawing at me, causing physical pain as I shout out and howl with sobs. I can't lose my family like this, I can't lose my home. "Amari we have to go back!" I choke with tears and sob, pleading with him.

"No." He forcefully makes me sit in one of the little cars, taking one of the seatbelts and wrapping it around me. I yell and scream with sobs.

I feel like nothing. I feel like I have no home, no family. Everything's been ripped away from me. I feel like I'm bleeding as I yell at my ally and sob.

He doesn't say anything, just sitting down instead. "No. We can't go back."

"We have to go back!" I say wrestling against the seatbelt and trying to figure out how to undo it.

"We can't go back unless you want to die."

I slump, crying quietly into my hands. I curl up into a tight ball, crying quietly. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe I lost it. I feel sad, and angry, just at everything and everyone, especially Amari, for not going back, and at me. I was the one that dropped it. I start to sob again, quietly.

Amari doesn't move as the sky gets darker, and soon I can't see him anymore.

* * *

 _The second night_

* * *

-Karima, D9F-

Over time, my tears quiet, but I can't escape the feeling of misery.

"Get some sleep," Amari says quietly, after I've been silent for a while.

"No," I say, rubbing at my eyes with my fists. "You do it. You deserve it."

"Alright." I hear him walk over, and his hands fumble to undo the seatbelt holding me in. Then, he gets into another little car.

I sit by myself in the silence, before something starts to happen. I hear something, I hear a noise in the distance. I hear someone giggling. I look around, alarmed, but see no one. Nothing.

Even so, though, the noise doesn't stop. The sound of the girl giggling gets louder and louder.

"Come with me!" she says, her voice echoing a little bit. "Come _dance_ with me!" she giggles. " _Dance_ with me! _Dance_ with me!"

"No," I say under my breath. I want it to stop. "No…"

"Dance with me!" the giggles get louder and louder, until they consume me. I clutch for something, anything to remind me of who I am, but my bunny is gone. I'm stuck here. More tears start to stream out of my eyes, and I quickly stand up, knowing what I have to do.

I sneak out of the car and to the entrance, not looking back as I run out into the darkness. I have to get it back. I don't know which way to go and start running blindly, feeling the ground hit against my feet. Tears pour out of my eyes as I run blindly. Maybe I know that I won't be able to find it, but I don't care.

"Dance with me!" the giggling gets louder, it fills my head. I look around, trying to find something, anything, but there's nothing there. I sob and scream, feeling like I might be crazy, doing anything I possibly can to drown out the noise.

"Come! Be with me!" she beckons, but I keep screaming, trying to get the voice out of my head. I keep running and sobbing, desperate for my bun.

Just then, a flash of light covers my vision, causing me to stumble backwards, in shock. I don't know where I am, or how far I've gotten. I stumble back, still screaming, trying to get the voice in my head to leave me alone. I just want it to go away, I want my bunny back, I want to be at home where I belong, at home with my family and friends, with the people that care about me.

"It's Karima," I hear a voice say. I hear footsteps approach, but don't stop screaming.

"That's it! You and I can dance together forever!"

"NO!" I yell, crying. "NO!"

My suffering is cut short by an explosion of pain through my chest. I fall backwards, descending into darkness.

~.~.

-Vidarr, D2M-

There's nothing but a tense silence as the cannon booms. The girl from District 9 is sprawled out on the ground, her body eternally set an unnatural pose. I glance at Collin, who's holding the flashlight that had been sent to me by a sponsor. He was on watch, but the screaming had awakened both of us.

I walk over casually to the body and take the knife, numb to the stain of blood on it. Killing is something I've done plenty of before. The stinging, by now, is more like a dull ache than anything.

I'm honestly surprised that anyone was allowed to sponsor me, considering the reason I was thrown into this mess in the first place. And I'm surprised that I got a not from a "loyal fan" wishing me good luck. It's kind of surreal. I must've done something right to have at least one fan.

Collin and I haven't talked very much since getting here, usually just divvying up watch by one person going in the sleeping bag and the other knowing that it was their turn, and light shaking to wake each other up when we're too tired to keep going. In the days, we've just wandered with our weapons, searching for tributes.

This is our first kill of the Games. I feel like someone should say _something._ I can't think of any good words, though. I clean my knife off with Karima's shirt, not wanting to make my own crusty and smelly.

"What happened to you?" I ask her as I do it, ever so quietly. "You were perfectly alright before we got here… What happened to make you like this?"

I stand back up, glancing at her one last time. I suppose we won't ever know what it's about.

Collin sheds the flashlight all around, and on the girl's body.

"The bunny," Collin says quietly, almost mumbling.

I glance at the girl and realize that he's right. He doesn't need to explain it. I nod a bit. Wordlessly, he starts gathering our supplies, both of us knowing that we're going to have to move out of here so that the hovercraft can get the body. I realize how much easier it is to move around and know what's happening with a flashlight, and thank my sponsor a million times inside my head as we walk away from the body, not stopping until we have another ride in sight. He gives me a glance, and I shake my head, so we set up camp outside of there.

I give him a nod good night and climb back into the sleeping bag, closing my eyes.

I hear it just then. Quietly. Ever so quietly. At first I'm not sure if it's really happening or not, in fact. I sit up, looking around.

Collin's gone pale.

"That sounded like…" he trails off, paling some more.

"It's not just you," I say. That's really the most I've said to him since we got here. The giggling is really unnerving. I bet that's what Karima was hearing, too. Or something like it.

"Right…" he says, rubbing his eyes as if that'll make the noise go away. "Sorry."

I shake my head, not needing to talk as I lay back down.

"Come! Dance with me!" I shut my eyes tighter, silently cursing the Head Gamemakers for bringing this on. I know they're trying to make us go insane with this, just like Karima did.

I squeeze my eyes shut, a chill going down my spine and making me shiver. I know that I can't succumb to madness like Karima did. I close my eyes as tight as I can, willing sleep to come. I know that sleeping will bring dreams of Ashe, dreams of home. That's really all I need right now. I need to remember why I have to get home.

Eventually, thinking about Ashe, I'm able to quiet the noise and drift off into sleep, wondering what the third day will bring.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: In case you haven't noticed, the Arena chapters aren't going to be nearly as long as the others. If I did 4000 or 6000 word Arena chapters, it'd be too much boring filler, and I don't want to put three days in one chapter. I hope you guys understand. I'm sure it's no problem. So, the action is picking up. Also, if you sponsored and didn't see it in this chapter, don't worry. I just didn't want to do more filler. However, the tributes have gotten the gifts (except for Hope's, Kade won't get his until the next day because you can't sponsor two days in a row) and I'll put them on my profile.**_

 _ **Also, Emrys Holmes, who submitted Rachel, is also doing character drawings for this story and I'm putting on the blog! A big thank you goes out to her! If any of you guys want to draw for the story, PM me a link and I'll put it up on the blog! Also I would probably shower you with hugs. Y'know.**_

 _ **Hm. Alright. DAMMIT I remembered what I was going to say on the last chapter and now I totally forget it again! Grr!**_

 _ **Well, oh well. I'm sure I'll remember again as soon as I post this chapter. Just because.**_

 _ **Alright, well, hope you liked the chapter! Requests and thoughts are always welcome.**_

 _ **Thanks for Karima, Natasha! I hope her death was just as good as you wanted it to be!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Which tributes do you want to see more of? Any confrontations you want to see?**_

 _ **Scores:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 41**_

 _ **Apollo's Slytherpuff Daughter: 113**_

 _ **bagelswift: 2**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 100**_

 _ **CptAwesome: 10**_

 _ **Culturalchicken: 2**_

 _ **deathless. smile: 15**_

 _ **Dreamer: 596**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 180**_

 _ **eldergrayskull: 4**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 92**_

 _ **epictomguy: 24**_

 _ **erica1024 (I'm assuming you're the same person who reviewed as a guest named Erica, but let me know if you're not!): 16**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 64**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **GirlOnFire (assuming you were also the guest with no title): 20**_

 _ **GryffindorOnFire: 9**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 470**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 12**_

 _ **Jess: 632**_

 _ **johnsonmiranda70: 6**_

 _ **Josephm611: 237**_

 _ **Kate: 543**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 122**_

 _ **Legend: 559**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 202**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Master Maedhros: 10**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **OncerTillTheEnd: 4**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 34**_

 _ **PrimroseEverdeenmyLittleDuck: 10**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 80**_

 _ **Red Roses1000: 5**_

 _ **ReignRain: 2**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **Sagerose the Divergent: 10**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 116**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 32**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **stop-pulling-on-mariazell: 30**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **starrymidnight16: 4**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 40**_

 _ **the victor of panem: 61**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 71**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 256**_

 _ **youngpatriot: 5**_


	30. Day 3, Night 3

_The third day_

* * *

-Callum, D1M-

The alliance is stable.

Never thought I'd say it, but the alliance is stable.

Iridesce took the lead, and we've all been following her. She's a strong leader, but not cruel. She's a hunter, offensive, but swift. She's not inhumane, just logical. We do have to kill to survive, as much as the rest of us try to avoid it.

I killed, I took a life.

My hands are bloody, dirty now.

It's a realization, a feeling, a fact that lingers. It never goes away. No matter what, I can't unkill Billie. I can't bring her back. No matter how hard I repent, ask for forgiveness of her loved ones, beg on my knees, wallow in guilt and pain and darkness, I can't do a single thing about it.

Speaking of darkness… Someone died last night. The cannon just about scared the shit out of me. I wonder who it is. Maybe one of the young ones, or the ones that went alone. The voices of the night only make the darkness darker, the guilt a more shocking crimson. Having two tributes awake at all times is definitely the best way to go. I live for the few moments of relief when I can have the night vision goggles and see around me in the pitch blackness.

The nights are full of chilling breezes and the voices of ghosts. It's nice to have someone else there, someone alive and warm, that you can reach out and touch if need be. It's reassuring to be sitting next to someone else who is awake and breathing.

I guess we'll have to wait until tonight to see who died last night, or maybe we'll figure it out some other way. The sky starts to lighten, slowly and ever so slightly, but it lights up. Iridesce wakes the others as I get some food out of my backpack for breakfast. The others talk quietly, all of them rubbing their eyes and yawning, even Iridesce, who was on watch with me.

"So, I was thinking that today, we climb that roller coaster and get a full view of the Arena," Iridesce says, pointing up to the tallest hill. "We found a way in yesterday, but today, we should take the time to go all the way up."

"Sure," I say. In all honesty, I'd like to prevent from taking lives if I can.

If there were stronger Careers, or even just more in number, I would offer to stay behind and watch our supplies at the Cornucopia as opposed to actually going out on the hunt. I prefer to be more defensive in nature, not fighting.

I know that this is the Games and I can't afford to be pacifistic now of all times, though, and since our alliance only has four, one of who is from District 7 and hasn't had the kind of training we have, one of which is 16 and not as serious as many, and one being an Academy dropout, we all have to pull our weight to show we belong and to survive. Which means that, if Iridesce would rather climb a roller coaster than go on the hunt, I'm all for it.

Confrontation freaks me out, though. I don't want to kill, especially not when the only weapon I can use is so violent in nature. I still haven't forgotten about the sight of Billie's head being destroyed by my morningstar, blood and brains spilling out.

No, Callum. I take a deep breath, trying to remove myself from the anxiety and control my thoughts to return my heart rate back to normal.

We hear a beeping noise just then, though, as a parachute floats down towards us. We exchange looks among us, and I know that at least one of us have proven ourselves enough to win gifts, and more importantly, support from the Capitol. I can only hope that lucky tribute is me.

Iridesce takes the parachute, taking the pair of night vision goggles and putting them on, looking into the pot of the parachute, that glows to give us a view of where it is in the dim darkness of the Arena.

"Riella," Iridesce says, taking a knife and a note out of the parachute and handing it to her. "It's yours."

"Oh. Thanks." The girl from District 7 seems surprised as she takes the knife from the parachute and puts it in a belt around her waist. Now she has two weapons. If she has to leave the bulky, heavy axe she carries behind, she'll have a plan B. I wonder what the note says, but I can't see it from where I am.

I sigh, my heart sinking. I've been so focused on trying to prove myself to sponsors, to friends and family, to Gravity. I've been trying to convince them that I do belong here, that I do have a shot. That I'm not just a flunkie, not average. I want them to see me and admire me, not scorn me. I know that volunteering may not have been my smartest decision, but I show everyone that can't change it and now that I'm here I can't die and bring dishonor to my name. To my District. To my family.

I'm desperately trying to prove myself. I want them to be proud of me. I want to be proud of myself. And, because of that, there's no way in hell I'm going to give up. If anything, I have to fight harder. I know that I'm going to have to take more lives if I want to earn the favor of the crowds.

And I don't know if I'll ever be able to do anything to make Gravity think that I should be here instead of him. He put in the work, he put in everything. But just because I didn't train in the District doesn't mean that I have no shot. After all, I'm still here. I still have allies, and I'm still going to be at an advantage.

"Up we go," Iridesce says, starting to climb. My District partner is fit and climbs fast, even though the first hill is somewhat steep. I follow second, keeping pace with her so I don't fall behind. Maggie and Riella are behind me, talking quietly amongst themselves. They've done that a lot lately.

I think they might be trying to forge a bond because Iridesce and I are from the same District. The truth is that there's still a lot of tension between us, because I flunked out of the Academy and she's trained so hard for this. Iridesce is offensive and I'm more defensive. If Maggie and Riella leave, I don't think we'd last together very long.

Iridesce thinks of me as the most expendable person of the alliance. She's horribly prejudiced against me, as many District 1 citizens are, because I didn't train. I've been looked down upon when I say that I wasn't training. People assumed it was because I was inept, unable to train, weak. If they knew anything about my life, maybe they'd see why it was never a top priority for me. If only.

Iridesce gives the Arena a quick scan from the first hill, then continues to crawl, up the next hill. This one is taller than the first, and just as steep. I give Iridesce a slight head start so that I don't run into her, then go next. Just as I'm starting to climb, Maggie surfaces over the first hill, Riella appearing soon after.

The second hill is harder to climb as my body starts to react to the effort, heart starting to beat faster, breath coming heavier. We reach the top of the hill without too much effort. Going down this one is harder, because it's tall enough that I have to control my fall so I don't go down too hard. Sometimes, holding myself back is harder than pulling myself up.

Iridesce starts up the third hill, which is the tallest of all, and also the steepest. I start up after her, feeling really claustrophobic and wobbling. I startle as the boards creak as I'm climbing them. I feel like they're going to break any second. I keep on climbing, though, board by board, heaving my weight up. Some sweat starts to form just as we reach the top.

It's so high up my head starts to swim being all the way at the top. The tracks are thick, but not comfortably so. It still feels like if a sudden burst of wind came, I could be sent plummeting to my death.

"Wow," Iridesce says.

I get what she means. The view is really amazing from here.

"Wow indeed."

The other two come up a little while afterward. Iridesce looks out around the Arena, the sky brightening ever so slightly more with each minute. We can't see much, just the dark silhouette of the ferris wheel in the distance, but we see just how expansive the Arena truly is. I look for tributes, and see some figures in the distance.

"I don't see many trees," Iridesce observes, "And I haven't seen many animals to hunt. I wonder how the others are going to get by."

"Hm." She's keen. Then again, she's been told exactly what to look for, so why wouldn't she be?

Maggie and Riella are silent, just like me. We don't talk for a while, just standing up there and drinking in the view. My heart pounds hard at the prospect of being up so high, but soon Iridesce starts to climb down, the rest of us following.

I wonder what Armory and Niss are doing right now. I wonder how my grandparents are feeling. Those four are the only people I really care about nowadays. I think about them, picturing each of their faces as vividly as I can in my head as I'm climbing down, plank by plank. I'm relieved when we can climb off the roller coaster and my feet are on solid ground.

After that, we collect our stuff, and get out some lunch that we can eat as we walk. Iridesce takes the lead, spear at the ready, and the rest of us follow her without a word.

~.~.

-Leo, D12M-

Cory and I have been cooperating. I can't say I understand the girl, why she gave up a gift that she's so lucky to have, why she would choose this life for herself. But that doesn't mean I can't respect her. We can cooperate. After all, I'm injured, and that first-aid kit was for her. It was in my best interest to get the help that I can. I can cooperate.

At the same time, though, Cory and I have been forced to get kind of close. I can't always see her motions, so to let me know she's close she's taken to holding my hand or my arm.

Even though Cory's eyes are dark and his are light green, the looks that she gives me remind me of my little brother Albus. It seems like just yesterday that I was holding him in my arms, trying to calm his fear for his first reaping. I tried my best to reassure him. I'd do anything for him. Yeah, maybe he has Dereck, my other brother at 14, but he needs me. Dereck is too abrasive for him sometimes. They both need me back there to work for food. And if I win, they'll never have to go hungry again.

I have to separate Cory from my brothers. She's helpless, I know she's helpless, but if I Want to get back to where I belong, I have to keep my guard up. She has to die if I want to live.

And yet, I've got a sort of soft spot for her. Even if I was born mute and she chose it, I still understand her. I understand what she's gone through. I understand what it's like to be taunted and bullied because I don't talk. I know what it's like for people to treat me like I'm stupid, like I'm something sub-human. I know what it's like to be driven into a corner, hopeless, helpless, nobody understanding the battles I'm fighting, completely and utterly alone. I know what she's suffering. I've been through exactly what she has.

The way that they laughed at her, at interviews, was something I've _lived_ before. I've burned in that hell before. I've suffered. I've been walked on before because I don't talk. My brother Dereck exploited it every day of my life. And now, I've found someone that understands my pain. Someone that's lived through the very same pain I have. Being with her, with someone that understands what I've been through, someone I understand… I feel like there's another bond there, tying us together.

I find that I like walking with Cory holding onto me. Even when I can see her, it's reassuring to see that she's still around, still here. She's still got my back, and I've got hers. We're officially allies.

Sure, we don't have weapons. We don't have food and water. We're looking for food and water still, but I found a rusty metal plank that we could use as a weapon while we wait for a better one to come. I feel sluggish and slow from not having eating, the ache in my stomach becoming constant, my mouth dry, but I can't say I'm not used to that sensation. After all, times are tough.

Cory, however, isn't taking it nearly as well. She is slow, leaning against me as we go, taking breaks more often. I know that we have to find supplies for her.

We walk, taking breaks frequently. Every once in a while she'll stop and lay her head against my shoulder, her eyes hollow and miserable with hunger. I know it only gets worse as time goes.

That afternoon, just as my stomach begs and pleads me for lunch, we hear voices. Cory freezes and I look up as I see the silhouettes of what has to be the Careers.

"Let's go," I say, taking Cory's hand and squeeze it. She squeezes back, and I start moving faster.

I hear footsteps coming closer, though, and faster. Of course the well fed, well cared-for, fit Careers would easily gain up on us. I realize that we're going to have to fight. I let go of Cory's hand and step in front of her, raising the weapon.

Callum swings at me with his morning star, and I counter it with the metal bar. I know that four of them are going to outmatch us, so I start moving backwards, trying to get an opportunity to run.

"Go," I imagine typing the words and they speak to Cory. "Just go."

She doesn't move, and I shove her the other way with another, "Go!"

Cory's eyes are wide, and sparkle with fear, but she turns around and starts away. Meanwhile, I hit Callum over the head with the bar, sending him reeling to the back of the pack. Then, I turn around to make my getaway. I can't see Cory anymore, I have no idea where she's gone, but that means she got away, so at least I didn't die for nothing.

No. I'm not going to die. I start to follow her, turning and running away as fast as I can. I almost think I got away until I feel a pain explode through my back and through my stomach, causing me to lose my footing and violently hit the ground. I hear the voices coming closer, saying, "He's dead, get the 5 girl."

Iridesce's foot steps on my back and she violently rips the spear out of my stomach, driving a groan of misery out of my throat, vocal chords just barely vibrating naturally. Then, I watch the Careers start forward after Cory.

I stare up at the dark sky, my head swimming, trying to figure out where I am and what's going on. The wound seeps hot, sticky blood that spreads out across my stomach and abdomen. I try to sit up, but the world swims and I can't have the energy to stay that way, my back hitting the ground again. I can feel myself losing consciousness, and realize that I'm just about dead. Just like that.

I focus on breathing, on making my chest go up and down, staying with it. I try to cling to what I have here, Albus and Dereck, and Zack. I focus on my family, my friends, trying to stay with it. Trying to find something to anchor me down to earth.

Suddenly, I feel warmth as Cory takes my hand. She must have hidden, and come back out to find me after Iridesce struck me.

I blink my eyes, and I see her face, feel the tickle of her hair over me. Her dark eyes are full of words that she can never say. Tears roll down her cheeks and she shakes her head slightly, reaching up to her mouth and dropping her hand to sign me that she's sorry.

I close my eyes, trying to bring up the keyboard. It flickers, but I type out, "It's fine." The voice says it, cracking and flickering out. I try to bring the keyboard back to apologize to my family, my friends, I let them down… But it doesn't appear.

Breathing becomes harder. My head swims, nothing stays still. I soon lose sight of Cory, and all I see is darkness all around me. I let them down. I let them all down.

Cory squeezes my hand again.

I didn't die for nothing, though. I gave her a chance. A chance to show that you can do anything, even if you don't talk. A chance to get back to where she belongs, a chance to prove that we are just as capable, intelligent, and human as anyone else. Even if she chose this, she's dedicated to it. She respects it. She doesn't think of it as a joke.

I take a last shuddering breath.

I gave her another chance.

And now, It's up to her to use it.

The world turns into a flash of white.

~.~.

* * *

 _The third night_

* * *

-Hamilton, D5M-

Cyra and I haven't really moved from where we were situated in the tents of games. Nobody's bothered us, all we've done is sat and recovered.

We've both recovered. Emotionally, and physically.

She bandaged up my injury from the bloodbath, cared for it with a gentle hand, constantly asking permission to slide my shirt up, to wrap it, to dab at it. We have some simple food that we got from a sponsor, and clean bandages that aren't bloody. The wound still hurts like sin, and it doesn't look pretty, but it's clean and bandaged, and it's stopped bleeding. I'm not out of the race yet.

We've needed more time to recover emotionally. Losing Ductor on the first day still haunts me. I wish we could have helped him. I wish we had been smarter, not gone, not risked it. I wish we would've put more trust in the sponsors. This stupid backpack isn't worth the life that was lost. He had family and friends back home. He had people that loved him, and we loved him too. Obviously not even as close to as much as they did, but still. He made me smile. He was a nice guy. He was my age. He didn't deserve it.

I still can't forget the look of shock on his face as he crumpled forward.

Cyra took it harder than me. I've awakened when she was on watch to her sobbing, curled up in a little ball. I know that it must be devastating to her. She lost him, he was from her home.

Cory's still alive, out there somewhere. If I had to watch her die, I'd be devastated too. She's pulled me out of at least two panic attacks since we got her. She knew exactly what to do for me. She understood me. She helped coach me. I owe her, and I never got to repay her at all. I hope that, if she goes, she goes as painlessly as possible.

The Capitol anthem plays to announce the coming of night, another night, another miserable night. We have food, though it's running out, but we haven't found any sources of water yet. My mouth is dry, my eyes are dry, and I know that we need to find some water tomorrow for sure. I know that I'm going to have to get up and walk on my injury. It's going to be direly necessary.

Karima's face is the first to appear in the sky, and after hers, Leo from 12. Then, it fades away. Two more deaths. I'm two steps closer to winning, making it back home, and finally stepping out of my brother Jackson's shadow.

But first, there's a lot more misery to go.

"Do you want to go on guard first?" Cyra's gotten quieter since losing Ductor. She's gotten more watered down. Not smiled at all. Not even tried to be happy. I can't blame her, really, all I feel is miserable too.

"Yeah, sure." I rub my eyes, preparing to stay awake. Cyra gives me a last look, her eyes swimming with pity and sadness and guilt, before she lays down.

The night gets dark, fast. I'm used to it, though. I stroke Cyra's hair gently as she sleeps, just as I had done the night before. It really helps to calm me down.

Just then, I hear a noise. A noise that echoes slightly. I'm not sure if it's real or in my head. It's a bird chirping. Singing.

I look around, trying to find the source of the sound, but in the darkness, I see nothing.

Just then I hear a voice. The voice of a girl. I recognize that voice.

"Pretty bird! Pretty pretty bird!" the bird keeps on singing, and the voice doesn't stop. "What a pretty bird! Pretty pretty bird!" it has almost a sing-song quality to it.

I swallow hard. "C-Cyra?" I ask quietly.

"Pretty bird!" the voice echoes with a giggle.

"Dance with me!" another voice says.

"Pretty bird!"

"Dance with me!"

"Pretty pretty bird!"

The bird sings louder. The girls go into giggles. I clutch my temples, trying to make it stop, make it go away!

"Stop…" I mutter. "Cyra…" I shake her, desperate for my ally to wake up.

"Pretty bird!" the voice trills. "Pretty pretty!"

"Stop…" I mutter, beg. This has to stop before I panic. I shiver as I feel a chill running down my spine, without any wind. I can't panic now. I can't.

Cyra shifts, and she sits up. "Hamilton?" she asks, voice groggy. Hearing her voice, her real voice talking to me, helps immensely.

"I'm sorry for waking you…" I say quietly. We drift into silence. I hear it again, the bird singing quietly, hidden in the back of my mind.

"Wh-What is that?" Cyra asks quietly, sounding more awake.

"I don't know. It sounds like…"

"Dance with me!"

"Pretty pretty!"

The bird sings.

I put my hands over my ears, begging for it to stop. It seems that putting my hands over my ears only muffles it a little bit, though, not as much as it should. It's hard to tell whether the voices are in my head or in reality. If I hear that voice say pretty bird one more time…

The bird keeps singing. I realize it's going to be a sleepless night.

"Let's just… Both stay up. Just for a while, until it stops," Cyra says. That sounds like a fine idea to me.

"I hope it stops," I say quietly.

"It will. Give it time to fizzle out."

"Dance with me! Dance with us!"

"Pretty bird! Pretty!"

"Talk to me!" I beg Cyra. "Please. Don't let me panic. Please."

I can't see her at all, but I know she's there. She has to be there.

"Alright," she says. "I'll tell you some stories that we told to my little nephew. It'll pass the time."

"Can I lay in your lap?" I ask quietly.

"Yeah, sure." I shift, laying down. I feel her hand gently touch the top of my head, and when I don't bat it away, start stroking my hair.

"Here, let's start with the Three Little Pigs."

I close my eyes, trying to focus on the calm, reality of her voice instead of the giggles and that stupid damn bird.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay, I was out of the country for a week. Luckily, though, I came back with a lot of inspiration and I don't go up to school until the 25**_ _ **th**_ _ **! So I'm gonna go as far as possible on this story before then. I started making a skeleton for death order and causes of death based on preferred deaths, but the sponsoring could easily change that so keep it coming!**_

 _ **I posted some stuff on the Silhouettes blog about Arena mapping via Roller Coaster Tycoon and such. And I'm about to post a video there because I'm making someone say "I've got dibs on Raoul" some time or another! So that'll be explained later.**_

 _ **I REMEMBER WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY FOR THE PAST TWO CHAPTERS: I have a question for you: would you guys like to see an 84 Afterlife!AU on the blog? Basically it's just a mini story about all the tributes waking up as angels in heaven and getting used to the afterlife. I did it for my 36**_ _ **th**_ _ **Games story so I was wondering if read it for this one.**_

 _ **Thanks a bunch to W.R. Winters for Leo! I hope you liked how I played him!**_

 _ **I think that's all for now! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! As always reviews telling me what you think are highly appreciated!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Were you surprised by Leo's death? Who do you hope will be next, and who do you predict will be next?**_

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	31. Day 4, Night 4

_The fourth day_

* * *

-Cyra, D3F-

Hamilton and I didn't sleep a lot last night. Well, Hamilton didn't sleep a lot. I didn't really sleep at all.

I told him a lot of stories that I remembered sharing with my baby nephew Greg. They're childish and young, but they got the job done. It made the time go by, and droned out the eerily familiar voices of the girls.

Every once in a while, telling the stories, I would have to stop and take a breath before going on. I couldn't stop thinking about how Ductor had a baby nephew, too. I forget what his name is, but I know that he's going to have to grow up without his uncle there. I can't imagine the pain his family must be feeling now. I can't imagine the kind of torture it must be to lose someone they loved so much. When my mind would be overcome with these thoughts, I'd have to take a second to breathe to prevent tears. He was my District partner, after all. He was young, too. 15.

But when I stopped talking, the voices came back. The girls, laughing, the bird tweeting in my ears, in my head. It was a very restless night.

I knew that I could've awakened Hamilton if I'd wanted to, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. He had that look in his eyes like he was about to panic before, and I didn't want him to have to stay awake with that while I was asleep. Part of me wouldn't have trusted him to be awake alone. The other part scolded me for thinking such things. I know that I'm going to have to make this work, and I'm going to have to put at least some trust in him. He _is_ my ally. And I know that he's depending on me.

Yeah, I know that I'm going to have to sleep eventually, and he'll want to stay awake on watch, but I'm hoping that tonight will bring quiet like the nights previous.

Eventually in the night, I cracked and turned the lantern on, even though we'd promised to save its energy for the daytime.

Hamilton blinks awake, his brown eyes squinting when met with the light. I figure that it's sometime in the morning, because the sky is brightening slightly. I wish I'd have something, anything to have so that I knew what time it really was. But I'm no good at counting the seconds away, and I'd lose focus too easily if I tried.

"Hey," I say quietly to Hamilton, rubbing at my eyes, still irritated from the bit of crying I did last night.

"Hi," he says quietly. "Did you stay up?"

"Yeah." I yawn as the 5 boy sits up off of my lap, cringing at how the action irritates his wound. It's not until I stretch and stand up that the true wave of exhaustion hits me and I'd like nothing more than to lay down and close my eyes. Especially now that the voices are gone, and the unnatural stillness and darkness have been replaced by the sounds of the outdoors and the brightening of the sky.

"Sure you don't want to rest?" he asks.

"No. Thanks. We have to find a reliable food source, and a reliable water source, if we can."

"Right." He sighs and reaches up to rub his eyes. I reach over and turn the lantern off, feeling a wave of dizziness as my tired eyes are forced to adjust to the darkness. I blink a couple of times before things start to go into focus again.

I can't stop yawning, but I know that once I get up and start walking around, my body will go back into awake mode.

Before we can do anything else, though, I notice a glowing parachute floating down from the sky towards us.

This isn't the first parachute we've received. The first one we got was a couple days ago, a bag of jerky and some clean bandages for Hamilton's wound. I don't care how small the gifts are, they're all precious. We appreciate each and every one.

I reach up to grab the sponsor gift, feeling more awake, though I can't stop yawning. I pull the parachute, which is still glowing faintly, down from the sky and open it. Inside is a small canteen with a 5 on it. I pull it out, and when I realize how heavy it is I discover that it has water in it.

"Hamilton!" I hand him the canteen, and his eyes light up. "Oo! Nice!"

I hand him the canteen and he drinks out of it thirstily. "It's cold too!" he says happily, handing it to me.

"Oh… I don't know if I could do that… It's yours."

"We're allies, Cyra. We share. You stayed up all night last night for me. Have some."

"Alright…" I take a sip. I know that Hamilton is a lot more animated than me, and a lot friendlier, which is probably why he's gotten a lot of sponsors. I wish that I was more interesting, I wish that I had something amazing that happened to me, but the truth is that I'm just like most District 3 teens, just trying hard to survive and doing whatever it takes to win the Games. To get back home to my family.

I have to do my best to get back, even after I lost Ductor. Even if I have to lose Hamilton too.

I take a small sip of water, and the cold is refreshing and slightly energizing. I rub my eyes and screw the lid on the canteen, trying to make it last as long as possible. Or, at least, until we find a water source.

"I think we have to venture out of the game tents today," I say. We'd spent the past couple days going from tent to tent, looking for anything to drink, and had been unsuccessful. I know that we can't hide there forever. Hamilton looks nervous, but nods in agreement. I put the canteen in the small backpack I'd gotten from the Cornucopia and zip it up. Today's a new day. I know that we just have to keep on moving forward. It's the only way to survive here.

I put the backpack over my shoulders. "You want me to take the knife?" I ask him. I know that Hamilton is still injured, and though it's better, it's still going to need proper stitches and care. I just keep going day by day with it, though I know that such small things like sitting up are painful for him. He's really not in any kind of condition to fight. He hands the weapon to me and I take it, holding it tightly as we start to venture. We decide to go the way opposite from where we came, using the tents to hide behind as we go.

We walk for a while, and don't make it far. We're moving slowly, partly because Hamilton's injured, partly because I'm tired, partly because we're trying to be quiet and stealthy, using the tents to hide.

We pick at some jerky for lunch as we go, and I start to see some tall, dilapidated buildings in the distance, knowing that we're getting close.

We duck behind an old dusty tent, Hamilton breathing heavy, my eyes still slightly heavy. I rub at my eyes when I hear footsteps.

When I look up, I notice the girl from 11 and quickly sit down again, hiding behind the tent. I give Hamilton a look conveying what I see, and he seems to understand because he tenses and stays perfectly still.

Suddenly, though, before I can stop it, the dust sends a tickle to my nose and I let out a sneeze, successfully giving us away. I know that now I have to defend my ally, my heart sinking. There's no running away, so I stand up to confront Martina.

Hamilton appears too, though, much to my dismay. I wanted him to just stay put and wait it out, but he's decided to fight against me.

I think for a second that maybe Martina will let us go. After all, she's from District 11. She's not a Career. My eyes are wide, watching her. I don't want to attack her if she's not going to attack me. We stay there in a second of tense silence before she attacks, sword ready as she strikes my ally in the chest. Hamilton barely gets to let out a scream before he collapses, hitting the ground hard, cold and dead.

My heart starts to pound harder, I hold the knife tighter, tighter tighter, as tight as I possibly can. My heart feels heavy with emotions, pounding hard. In my second of shock, Martina's replaced her sword with spiked knuckles. I realize that it'd be really dumb of me to fight her back. She's obviously got more than me. She enters the tent quickly, and I jump over the table at the front and run, I run as fast as I can, trying to get Hamilton's face as he collapsed out of my mind.

I run as fast as I can, one foot in front of the other, as fast as I possibly can, away from there. I don't stop until I see a building, throwing the wooden door open and running in blindly as I hear the cannon.

I collapse, breathing heavy as more tears come to my eyes. I can't stop them now. I can't control myself, I can't control the sobs that are forced out of my body, causing me to double over, sobbing loudly. I can't make myself quiet. I can't make myself care if there's another person in the house or not. I can't make myself do anything but sit here, curled in a ball, crying loudly into my knees.

I stay there for a while, lantern and knife and backpack in tow. I lost supplies when Hamilton died, but I still have something. I can't make myself get up and do anything. When I look up, I see a distorted image of myself in a mirror, right in front of me. I don't realize how pathetic I look until I see my red face and teary cheeks elongated by the mirror.

I rub at my eyes, but feel nothing but exhausted when the tears end, and drift away into sleep.

* * *

 _The fourth night_

* * *

-Cyra, D3F -

When I wake up, I'm not totally sure if I've opened my eyes. The room is pitch black in the night. I reach around desperately when I hear a voice that makes me freeze.

"Cyra!" I hear crying, choked sobs, accompanied by my name. "Cyra!"

I stand up quickly, searching desperately for the lantern. When I find it, I turn it on, quivering. I look into one of the mirrors in the light, and see me. I look pale, tired, and horrified. But it's me. Just me.

When I blink, and look again, the image changes. I don't see me in the mirror anymore.

I see Ductor.

His brown eyes are wide and desperate, he clutches his bleeding stomach with one hand, sending me desperate signs with the other.

"No," I say. "No…" I stumble backwards, eyes wide in horror and shock.

"CYRA!" the boy in the mirror screams at me.

I scream at that, and start running. I run away as fast as I can, away from the image of my District partner, his hands covered in blood, his eyes wide.

"Come back for me Cyra!" he yells at me. The room seems to lighten as I run, and soon I notice that I'm surrounded by mirrors, all of them holding the image of my District partner, bleeding out and crying, yelling at me. "CYRA! COME BACK FOR ME!" he yells. "CYRA!"

I yell and scream over him, trying to drone him out, but the screams only get louder as I hear the familiar voice of Hamilton, calling and crying to me.

"CYRA PLEASE!" He yells. I hold my ears in my hands, yelling and trying to drone out their voices. I feel like I'm going insane here, left alone, the voices of two fifteen-year-old boys calling to me.

"Why did we have to go to the Cornucopia!?" Ductor yells. "Why did you throw away my life?!" I hear him sobbing, choking. I feel eyes on me, I feel the images of him staring at me.

"Why did you give away our cover!?" Hamilton yells at me, "Why did you throw away my life!?"

Everything goes into a blur of the boys screaming and sobbing, all I can hear is both of them taking turns screaming at me, "Why did you throw away my life?!"

I feel like I'm suffocating, I can't breathe. I scream, I keep screaming, but I can't even hear myself yelling. I jump up, hands still covering my ears, but it doesn't help. It doesn't get them out of my head. I see the silhouettes of my allies in front of me, dark figures, almost like specters, and start to run, desperately trying to find the exit. My eyes are blurred with tears, and every step causes more screams and exclamations.

"Why are you leaving us behind!?" Ductor shrieks, while Hamilton asks, "Why did you throw away my life!?"

"STOP!" I yell, dropping the lantern and knife again to cover my eyes. "PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP!"

"Why did you throw away our lives!?"

"Why did you do this to us!?"

Everywhere I turn is a dead end, another mirror with Ductor clutching his bleeding stomach, Hamilton holding his chest and gasping, eyes wide with desperation. I have to watch my allies dying over and over again. I keep running, not stopping, desperately pleading with the Gamemakers, with anyone that'll listen to get me out of here.

I keep running, searching for anything that might help me get out of here. I keep yelling over the boys' voices, trying to drown them out. Trying desperately to do something for them.

"I'M SORRY!" I shout at them, tears of desperation pouring down my face. "I'M SORRY I THREW YOUR LIVES AWAY!" I sob and bury my nails in my palms.

They don't stop yelling at me. I dig my nails into my palms until they bleed, trying to yell and being unable to hear myself. Sobs tear out of my throat as tears run down my cheeks, just as soft and gentle and warm as the stream of blood that starts to puddle in my palms thanks to what my nails did.

I scream and sob, knowing that it's just for the night, just until the day comes, then I can find my way out of here, but I don't feel anywhere near tired.

Suddenly, a cannon booms, loud and clear, and everything goes just as eerily quiet and still as it was before. I shiver with a chill, but sit up. When I rub my eyes and look in the mirror, though, I don't see Cyra. I see Ductor in one, Hamilton in the other. The rest of them are all empty, I notice, but I can't look away from the images of my allies, so realistic.

"Why did you throw our lives away Cyra?" Hamilton asks. He reaches out, putting a bloody hand on the mirror as if it were a separator between worlds. This time, he's not yelling. His voice has quieted to a tiny, hurt whisper.

"Why did you do this to us?" Ductor whispers, reaching a hand up to touch the mirror in front of him, barely audible, voice shaking. "We had to get home, too."

I reach out and touch the mirror gently, as if I could reach through and pull my allies out. Just as I skim the mirror with a finger, though, the images disappear. Gradually, I see myself again, distorted by the mirrors, just as before.

Even when their images are gone, the voices don't go away. I'm left alone, a little ball of Cyra on the floor, sobbing and wishing for it to be over. I thought it'd be better if they weren't yelling, but it's not. Now, it feels real. I know that Ductor and Hamilton realistically wouldn't yell at me. But now that they're not, everything just feels more and more real. My tears quiet, but are far from stopping. They roll down my cheeks and make a puddle where I have my head on the floor.

"I'm sorry!" I sob, voice quivering as I talk over my allies' quiet, tearful voices. "I'm so, so sorry!"

I continue to sob quietly, choking, trying to drown out the noises of pain and hurt, trying to convince myself that this is just a trick or gimmick from the Capitol, but they looked so real, sound so real, and their presence just feels so real that I can't regain control over myself.

Before I know what's happening, I gasp for air, continuing to hiccup with tears and hyperventilate until the world goes black.

~.~.

-Amari, D6M-

I sit by myself that night and munch on some food.

Karima dashed off in the night and I didn't even wake up. I was only awakened by the sound of her cannon.

 _No Amari_ , I tell myself, rubbing my eyes. _There's nothing you could've done to stop her. And you know that._

I do know that. She had some weird connection to that bunny, where it felt like I acted more as a babysitter to her than an ally. I know that she needed it, for some kind of validation, tie to home. I know that even if I'd awakened, I couldn't have stopped her. I couldn't have caught her.

 _You could have taken first watch._ I know that the voice in my head is right. I should have stayed awake and let her sleep. It was dumb of me to think that she'd stay where she was when I was asleep. I know that I could've prevented her death.

But at the same time, I didn't cause her death. I wasn't the one that dropped her bunny, I wasn't the one to finish her off. Causing her death and possibly preventing her death are two different things. I know that. I really know that, in my brain. But my heart aches anyways. After all, I'm a 15-year-old boy. You can't expect me to blink at death and move on.

I spent my days getting water at the spicket, retracing my steps in the grass to make it back to the little place for bumper cars. I don't want to go out looking for food alone, so I sit alone with the dried fruit I got from a sponsor. If I only eat a few pieces a day, I can make it last for a while. I want to prevent having to go back out for food if I can. I want to prevent going anywhere but my hiding spot.

I have no idea what Karima did or how she died. I wonder if she got far before she was killed or not. I have no clue. I wish I knew, not knowing is irritating to me. I wish there was someone I could ask, or something I could do to know. But there's no one. Nothing.

I spent the fourth day sitting and munching on food, not doing much. The sky starts to darken, and I prepare for another night alone. It hasn't been really bad so far. It's just been a couple of slow nights. Dark, silent. Chilly. But nothing I couldn't handle. I did get some sleep.

The darkness is thick and palpable. I shiver from the chill of nothing. I close my eyes, though, and drift off to sleep.

"Amari." My eyes pop open at hearing my name. I could've sworn that was…

"Amari." I rub my eyes, astonished.

I could recognize that silhouette from anywhere. I can tell because of the poofy hair.

"N-No…" I stammer out… "Y-You're dead. Go away. You're dead." The figure moves closer.

"You could have saved me. You could have pitied me. You could have done so much for me."

"No." Her voice booms inside of my head, and I suddenly wonder if I'm hallucinating. Maybe I'm losing it. Maybe I'm just going totally nuts and losing it. Maybe-

"Amari…." She moves closer, I don't see her taking steps but her silhouette is nearer. "You could have done so much for me. You could have had compassion. Don't think I couldn't read the insults on your lips. Don't think I didn't know what you said." Her voice grows teary. "I know what you called me! I know what you thought! You bully!" she's crying by now. "Your words hurt! You can't just go around and put people down! You can't insult people and say no offense!" she sobs, full-on sobs.

"This isn't real… She's not real. You're dead. Leave." I try to stop my voice from quivering, but it does. I really never wanted to hurt anyone. She talks so angrily that I know that my words got to her. I can't believe it. I can't believe _Billie West_ of all people would say things like that. She was never vulnerable like that.

She's dead, too. She's dead and gone.

"You think your friends really like you!?" she's yelling at me now, much more in Billie fashion. "You think you have friends?! You think people want to be around you?! They don't! They're just afraid of being the next target!"

"No. It's not true. My friends really like me."

"You're pathetic," she says.

Her words echo. I've heard them before. I've heard them before, I've heard them coming from my own mind. This has to be some kind of hallucination. I think I'm losing it. Usually my insecurities just flung themselves at me, not taken the form of ghosts.

"Stop," I say quietly, as if that will help.

"Nobody likes you, Amari. The other tributes have all been receiving presents, weapons and bandages, water, knives, whatever they asked for they've received, and what have you gotten!? A measly bag of fruit!"

My heart is pounding, thumping against my ribs. "No."

"It's true, Amari. We all wanted to get home. But you should've died on the first day. You were always meant to."

"No." I look around, looking for a way to escape this. I need to get her to go away.

I run, I run away from the silhouette and into the night, taking my supplies with me. I have to get away from her, as fast as I possibly can. Even when I run, her voice doesn't stop talking.

"You're pathetic, Amari! Nobody likes you for real!" She keeps on shouting.

I stop for a second, out of breath. Even though I worked up a bit of a sweat running, I still shiver from the coldness of the breeze.

Suddenly, I see a flash of light hopping in front of me. I run after it, hoping that it will lead me to something significant. It's not until I get closer to it that I realize what it is, though.

A bunny.

Just as I realize it, I hear her voice.

"Why did you let me die Amari!?"

I didn't think I'd be phased if Karima's death was blamed on me, but in that second my legs give out from under me. I know that I could've prevented it. I know that I could've done something for her. I know that I should have kept watch first. I wonder if it was these horrible visions and nightmares that caused this.

I stop following the bunny, barely able to lift myself from the ground. I could've done everything. Hearing the voice of my ally, hearing her in tears as she says the words, it's like she's really here. It's like she's still aching to get home.

Tears form in my eyes.

"Don't let those out," says Billie. "Be a man. Be the guy everyone knows you to be. Real men don't show what they're feeling."

I try to hold the tears back, but I can't. My eyes leak like a dripping spicket. I can't help it.

I hate looking vulnerable and weak. I think of people like Soren, that pathetic kid from District 6 who did my homework for me because he liked me. We used to laugh at him for wearing his emotions on his sleeve.

But sometimes, it gets to be too much. I don't care if Kyle and Lydia are laughing. I don't care if they say I'm on my man period. I don't care.

I sob.

Karima's quivering voice doesn't go away, either. The bunny keeps jumping around, drawing my eye to the light and movement, but I know that it's all in my head, I could never really catch it. I could never really bring Karima back.

I lift myself up to my feet, choking on sobs. I start to move again, start to move, start to run again, tears clouding my vision. I run until a bright flash assaults my eyes, sending me stumbling backwards.

"Why did you let me die!? Why!?" Karima whispers in my ear.

Suddenly, a pain rips through me and I realize I'm practically dead.

I hit the ground hard, pain pulsing, and start to panic at the bleeding wound.

Soon, breathing becomes next to impossible and I close my eyes, letting out a last choked sob and closing my eyes.

The flashlight is switched off, but the white doesn't leave my vision. It grows again, overtaking me as I exhale a final breath.

 _Sorry._

~.~.

 _ **A/N: I'm so sorry to all the hearts that have been broken I'm hiding away now so long farewell goodbye**_

 _ **Anyways, I hope you liked the chapter! It was a lot of fun to write, and also the big reveal of the gimmick! I hope that it's not really lame and that everyone likes it… Sorry if you were expecting something cooler/less obvious. But if you reread the nighttime scenes hopefully the baby crying/gunshots/dancing/bird make more sense now.**_

 _ **So I guess I should start an 84 Afterlife!AU if I have time or inspiration. I'll post it on the Silhouettes blog. I'm also still doing (shitty) chibis for all of the tributes, escorts, and mentors, so if you want you can check that out!**_

 _ **To Megan (We're All Okay) and Jalen Kun, thank you guys so much for these two sweethearts! I'm really sorry I couldn't make the preferred deaths for them work out but I hope this was satisfactory anyways!**_

 _ **So we're almost halfway through the Games! I can't believe it! When we reach the halfway point after the next tribute dies, I'm going to be bumping up the prices so bear that in mind!**_

 _ **Things are starting to get more intense, so I hope you're as excited as I am for that. Hopefully we'll have our Victor by… I dunno, the end of winter break? It depends on how much writing time I have in college. If you want to read more of my writing, I have a story for the 1**_ _ **st**_ _ **Games you can acquire/use points for, a partial SYOT for the 42**_ _ **nd**_ _ **Games you can acquire/use points for, and two collabs: one with my friend Legend and one with my other friend Dreamer. #shameless self promotion**_

 _ **Oh, another thing: I was JUST informed (by Google) that only 6% of people say "spicket" and not "spigot" and I've been saying "spicket" for like five chapters now so FUCKING FIGHT ME IT'S SPICKET NOT SPIGOT. SPIGOT IS DUMB. SPICKET. FIGHT ME.**_

 _ **If anyone wants to send Kendal a weapon of choice, by the way, his weapon of choice is his brains. So I will send him a literal brain. Thanks Jess.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Shout out to Kate for this because I was uninspired. Maybe next chapter I'LL make YOU give me the chapter question. Anyways, here it is: Make up a random headcanon (Something that you think to be true but may or may not necessarily be true) about one of the tributes/friendships. For example, I could headcanon that Cyra, Ductor and Hamilton would have movie nights and just snuggle and watch movies. There. Stuff like that. Good luck and have fun! (Bonus points if it's about a tribute that isn't yours- or one of yours and one of someone else's- or whatever I'm sorry I love headcanons I'll shut up now)**_


	32. Day 5 and Updated Prices for Items

_The fifth day_

* * *

-Kendal, D7M-

I sit awake, the one of my allies allocated to do so for the night, and recite a book I read about climate change.

When I close my eyes, I see the book in front of me, recalling the words I saw on the page again and saying them out loud. It's really an interesting topic, I can't believe that anyone could fall asleep when hearing about it, but somehow Edgard and Raoul both sleep soundly as I read the words off of the pages I can see in my head. I talk to keep away the sounds of the ghosts. It's what we all do. Raoul sings, I read, and Edgard just starts talking about philosophical things. Things like, our purpose as human beings, and the roles we play in society. It's actually really interesting to listen to, but after a long day I couldn't stay awake.

Whether we're ready or not, the sky lightens, announcing the coming of another day.

I just keep on reading, though. I can't say I've never pulled an all-nighter reading. This really isn't anything new to me.

I just keep reading, muttering the words out loud to keep away those noises that made me cower and cover my ears. It doesn't entirely work, and sometimes in the night I heard the laughter of Amari, from 6. So I guess I know plenty well who that cannon was for last night.

It was torture. But the torture is over. The somewhat condescending, hurtful laughter of the 15-year-old quieted as suddenly as it started.

The night vision goggles we got from a sponsor helped, for sure, but they didn't stop the noise. I don't think anything anyone bought for us could do that.

I can tell that Raoul and Edgard are losing sleep over this. When I'm not the one awake, I struggle to sleep, too. I feel the rope in my hands, visualizing what I did with it in training and trying to do that again in the darkness when I can't see as well. I just do my best with what I have, though. We've been very lucky, all three of us, to be sponsored thus far.

I just don't want to disappoint the audience that sponsored us. They want us to put on a good show, use these things they gave us to get an edge over other tributes, ultimately killing them.

I've read about plenty of death, it's a part of our experience as humans. Plenty have written about it, plenty want to talk about it. Some are afraid. Some are open-minded.

Reading about death and watching, knowing death are two totally different things. I never thought they were, of course. But, even though I haven't watched any of the deaths yet, I know that it's very real: and very scary. I know that there are people I've talked to, people that smiled at me and made me feel more comfortable, there are people that I could've considered friends that are dead now… It's chilling. No matter what, that lingering thought is like a ghost that never leaves. I wish it would leave. I don't want to be here. I want to be back in District 7 with Aunt Linette and Agata, teasing and playing, just like we always used to. I don't want to be here, I never did, I never will.

Edgard and Raoul both wake up on their own, maybe at the sudden stopping of my rereading. Not even my passion can save me from this. I still feel constantly like I'm suffocating.

I like to have allies, though. For now. I just try to avoid thinking about what has to happen to them if I want to see my family again.

When you read about a hero in peril, the mood becomes intense, full of energy, apprehension. The authors obviously have never been in peril before. Apprehension is the understatement of the century; every step makes my heart pound. It's not endearing, or exciting, or light. It makes every step harder and harder. It's paralyzing. Painful, almost. I feel guilt and I don't even know why. I'm out of control of my own fate. And let me tell you, feeling powerless knocks the aspirations, dreams, laughter, imagination, energy, positivity… The whole _childhood_ right out of you.

I can't do anything.

I'm trapped.

I can fight my very hardest, but if they want me dead I can't stop them. I'm being hunted by at least ten tributes, maybe more. And, because I scored high, I have a target on my back. I still have no idea why the frick I scored so high, I didn't do anything during my training session but tie some stupid knots.

It's taken a few days for reality to sink in, but now it covers me like a cloak. No matter where I go it's not coming off, it's covering my eyes like darkness. I can't un-see what I've seen, I can't feel anything but this heavy, hopeless feeling of darkness.

Raoul and Edgard yawn as they sit up. At least they're still breathing. As the sky lightens up, I can see their faces, at least somewhat. That's almost reassuring.

"So, should we take survey of supplies?" Edgard asks quietly. I know that it's just a routine, an excuse to stay in the familiarity of the carousel without having to venture out, but still feeling productive. So, as we have for three days now, we empty the backpack and reorganize it.

Not that we have to reorganize much, we keep the food provisions and the small thermos with the night vision goggles in the biggest pouch, then the bandages and extra T-shirt in the next biggest, and finally, the box of matches by itself in the smallest pouch.

"Well…"

"How about we tie some traps?" I ask, taking the knife I got in the bloodbath and the rope we got from a sponsor.

"Can you do that?" Edgard asks.

"I spent some time during training." I start to unravel some of it, picturing the length it was when I was tying then and cutting it to just about the same length. The others watch, but don't jump in.

"I'd probably just tangle it up," Raoul says sheepishly.

"I'm sure you'd do fine," I say absent-mindedly, mostly focused on tying the way I learned in training.

"Where are we going to put this?" Edgard asks.

"Good question…" I was really thinking of using it for defense. Maybe have it secured to the top shelter over the carousel, to trigger when someone steps on it. But I have a feeling if I do that, somehow Raoul will manage to trigger it on accident. "We could… Use it as offense." The words are forced out of the back of my throat.

"Like…"

"By the spicket." It must sound like I'm in pain. I don't know if you've ever suggested to a couple of guys your age that you should set a trap with the goal of murdering someone, but it's not exactly easy. It's what the crowd wants, which is why I brought it up. I'd be just fine if we didn't use the trap at all, it served as a distraction, something to focus on for a while to forget the feeling of weight pressing on my chest.

A heavy silence as thick as the darkness lingers, as my allies realize what I'm suggesting. Neither of them wants to be the first to say yes.

Edgard clears his throat and Raoul mutters a "yeah, good plan."

I'm struggling to find air.

We collect our supplies, I put the backpack over my shoulders, and we start to walk. Edgard carries the rope, Raoul carries the trap and night vision goggles, and I have the knife and supplies.

We trace our path back to the spicket, all of us scouting for tributes. Raoul is able to see better with the goggles on, so he leads, and the two of us stay close behind him. We arrive and, after refilling the canteen and drinking to our heart's content, we start to set up the trap. The darkness works in our favor, as it'll give us a hiding place and not allow the tribute to see what they're walking into. We use some of the old trees around, testing branches to see the sturdiest ones and working from there. It takes us a while, by the time everything is good and ready it's at the brightest part of the day, and we put the night vision goggles away for a few hours or so.

Then, we retreat, ever so slightly, and listen.

Now I feel almost palpably torn.

 _Just one tribute, Kendal,_ part of me is thinking. _One will give them what they want. One is all you need. You just need to end it quick and forget._

The other part knows I won't forget, and is praying silently that no tributes find us today. Ever.

 _The trap could fail. There could be more than one, maybe heavily armed. We could get attacked from behind. The Gamemakers could send something on us. Tributes could have lights. They could notice it beforehand and find us before we knew what was happening._

All the ways we could die are flashing before my eyes. Quick, slowly, painfully, we could be dead before we even knew what happened.

We stay there for a while, watching nothing. Nothing. Still nothing. Nothing. _Still_ nothing.

I start to feel relieved that our attempt to find tributes failed completely. In fact, I have to pee, which will give us a great excuse to leave excusably. I'm about to speak up when I hear voices and stop short, crouching down further into the bushes out of fear.

"Alright, alright. Ally, Kill, Torture. With… 6, 9, and 10 boys."

My heart stops completely for a second as I start to quiver with fear.

"Ew, why would you choose those ones?" another voice asks.

"Because it's not Fuck, Marry, Kill, duh. It's Ally, Kill, Torture."

"Alright, alright. Probably… Ally with 10, kill 6, torture 9."

"Interesting. How about you?"

There's a long pause. "Probably… Ally with te-"

"Nuh uh Callum, I've got dibs on Raoul!"

The four of them all laugh at that as they turn the corner.

I exchange helpless looks with the others. There are 4 of them, only 3 of us. Even if one gets caught, we don't have any time to fight, we'd just barely have enough time to get away. The Careers have lanterns, too.

"Alright, anyways, ally with 10?"

"Oh, right. Ally with 10… Yeah. Kill 6. Torture ni-" I hear a small scream come from him and realize that our trapped actually worked. I don't have much time to feel triumph, though, as the Careers recover quickly and I see the flashing of lanterns and flashlights being turned on. In that moment, I begin to feel hyper-aware. Everything is intensified, as my heart pounds with adrenaline. Everything becomes overly clear, and I realize now is when I have to take action.

"A little help here!" Callum says irritably, as the lights get closer.

I know that now is the only time to give the crowds what they want. Heart pumping, pounding against my ribs, I leave my allies' sides to approach the figure hanging down from the tree. I pull the knife back and, after a deep breath and through teary eyes, thrust it forward, hoping to strike him in the heart. Instead, though, I miss and go slightly below, but his cry of pain causes me to quickly pull the weapon out and go looking for my allies.

"They're here!" Maggie says, causing the others to start away. Callum is screaming, practically wailing in agony as Maggie, Riella, and Iridesce pursue Edgard and Raoul. I hurry to catch up to my allies, knowing that I don't want to be alone without them.

I hear shouting behind me, but keep running as fast as I can.

Suddenly, above the others, I hear Iridesce's voice booming out, "I'm finishing this!" I turn around and run, not looking back, knowing that I can't afford to.

Before I know it I hear a wet choking sound beside me, as Edgard crumples to the ground. He doesn't make noise.

"EDGARD!" Raoul's voice raises to the shout, the first time I've ever heard him make that loud of a noise.

"We have to go," I say, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

"EDGARD!"

"They're getting closer!" I shout, pulling Raoul along, away from the corpse. He can't be helped, I know he can't. I pull Edgard along, retreating into the darkness, the feeling of Callum's warm, sticky blood still fresh on my fingers. I can't help but feel like the feeling is never going to go away.

We make it back to the carousel and hide in the darkness. We can see the silhouettes of our pursuers in the distance, but they eventually leave.

I can hear Callum's wails from here.

A single cannon booms, signaling the unchangeable fact that Edgard is dead.

One of our own has fallen.

And it was all my fault.

~.~.

-Maggie, D2F-

Callum screams in pain as Iridesce unties lets him down. They aren't particularly gentle, and even though Riella and I are there to help the fall, Callum still screams so loud my ears ring from being so close to him.

We set him down gently. I can see the pain, the concentration on trying to keep tears away in his eyes, on his face.

I don't know which of the three little rats made this trap, but it was fairly well-constructed. We turned back when Riella said she couldn't stand to hear him screaming, and we'd followed. I wonder if her District partner being in the mix had anything to do with that decision. Iridesce questioned her pretty harshly about it, but Riella swore innocence. Of course, why wouldn't she?

"Can you sit?" they're getting right to business, which is better, I think. More efficient. Callum screams out, shifting and squirming uncomfortably.

When Iridesce sheds light on the wound, I flinch. Blood is pouring out, making a puddle on the ground. By now, his attempts at keeping still and quiet, pretending it doesn't hurt and he's alright, have totally faded. His face is tearstained, he screams and cries out. I feel like my lunch might return if I keep on looking.

Riella disinfects the wound, and I go to get some bandages out of a backpack. Iridesce isn't much of a help in the process, observing quietly as we hurry to help him. In the light, his pale face has lost all of its color, his forehead is dripping sweat, blond hair coated with sweat and clumped to his forehead. The dark circles that were always slightly there are now painfully present, he just looks exhausted. His light blue eyes are desperate.

"You're alright," I say, and he's quiet. Still breathing fine. Each breath brings about a small whimper.

Riella hands him some water, and he drinks. We help him sit against an old metal pipe-like structure, not the spicket from earlier as I doubt this one functions.

"Feeling better?" He swallows a gulp of water and nods a bit, so Maggie and I step back, finding our backpacks to regroup.

Suddenly, Callum screams. When we turn around, Iridesce has a spear clean through his chest. Callum slumps over, dead for real this time. A cannon cracks in the distance, and Riella and I are left in shock.

Iridesce doesn't look guilty. Riella and I glance at each other. My heart beats harder as I realize this may be the end of our alliance, only 5 days in. I grab my foil-like sword, very slowly and deliberately.

"I'm not betraying anyone," Iridesce says, putting their spear back where it belongs in the holster on their back. "He was dead. He wasn't going to make it. He was just sucking up all our supplies by that point."

"W-We could've done something…" I can't force my eyes to leave the corpse. I feel a combination of shock, fear, and overall, just misery. He was 18. He was someone that laughed with us. How could Iridesce do this to him? Why did they give up on saving him?

"Maggie. There wasn't anything we could've done. He was going. I just sped up the process."

It's still unsettling. I still don't think it was justified. Especially because he wasn't begging for death like a coward. He was ready to keep on fighting, no matter the odds.

"He would've slowed us down in the long run. I don't want to fight you two. I will if you fight me, but I don't want to. Not yet."

I glance at Riella, and we make a silent agreement.

"We won't fight," I say. It wouldn't be smart of us.

"You just have to trust me. He was just going to be in more pain and die in the night. I did him a favor by finishing him early."

I still don't entirely believe that. It doesn't add up to me. How can you justify something like that? How can anyone write off the death of a teenager so nonchalantly? What are the Games doing to us as people? As a nation?

"Alright," Riella says. "It's good that it happened before the supplies were wasted." I can't tell if she means it or not, but Iridesce buys it.

The hovercraft comes to pick up Callum's body just as the anthem starts to play. Iridesce leads the way, and the rest of us follow them away from there. We stop in the darkness, setting our lanterns down.

"Now that we're down to three, we should only have one up on watch," Iridesce says. "I'll go first."

I hand them the night vision goggles before Riella and I lay down together. For a flash of a second I catch her eyes in mine, and we exchange a look that says "I don't trust them." Riella's eyes flicker over to where Iridesce is sitting awake, and we make a silent agreement to never be asleep at the same time. I close my eyes and try to get some sleep while Riella's awake pretending to be asleep.

It's hard when all I can hear are Callum's screams.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: So, to make up for my slight absence, here is a super intense chapter! Thank you so much to the submitters of Edgard and Callum, they were both so fun to write with and I hope you liked how I portrayed them!**_

 _ **So, I'm currently typing this from my college dorm! Hurrah! So I got here on Wednesday and my week's been jam-packed, but I finally got some free time so I decided to shoot for one more update before classes start tomorrow! So I'm so glad I was able to make it!**_

 _ **As always, still posting on the blog, though drawings are probably going to be more scarce. Every once in a while if I'm not updating for extended periods of time I'll make a blog post, you can also PM me if you ever want to get into contact with me. The afterlife AU will come when I'm feeling it. Maybe when I don't have a lot of time to sit down and write something proper.**_

 _ **So yeah, I think that's all I've got to say for now! Reviews are always appreciated, and more reviews means more motivation which probably means slightly faster updates as well, just saying.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: I know I said I was going to make you make one, but this time I actually have one so I'll save that for later. Here's the real CQ: Are you on Iridesce's side or Maggie's? Oo, it's becoming Civil War up in here!**_

 _ **Until next time, so long! Thanks for your support!**_

 _ **Edit: Whoops, forgot these:**_

 _ **Scores:  
AbbyCorabby123: 10  
A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 41  
Apollo's Slytherpuff Daughter: 113  
bagelswift: 2  
Beauty. Is. Strange: 61  
Blonde4ever: 62  
calebbeers21: 6  
Coolgal02: 61  
CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 110  
CptAwesome: 10  
Culturalchicken: 2  
deathless. smile: 15  
Dreamer: 671  
dreams and desperation: 205  
eldergrayskull: 4  
elisa. anya: 5  
Emrys Holmes: 98  
epictomguy: 24  
erica1024 (I'm assuming you're the same person who reviewed as a guest named Erica, but let me know if you're not!): 16  
fat necrosis: 64  
falyn. oliver: 43  
GirlOnFire (assuming you were also the guest with no title): 20  
GryffindorOnFire: 9  
hopefuldreamer1991: 387  
Ibbonray: 35  
Jalen Kun: 17  
Jess: 572  
johnsonmiranda70: 6  
Josephm611: 177  
Kate: 638  
Xx-Katerina-xX: 56  
Kyoko Rose: 26  
Lady Lysa Arryn: 127  
Legend: 574  
Littlefoot876: 2  
LokiThisIsMadness: 114  
magicharity: 163  
Master Maedhros: 10  
Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60  
MicaaAmaya: 4  
Music Rules The World: 4  
Mystical Pine Forest: 30  
nevergone4ever: 2  
OncerTillTheEnd: 4  
xxPeppermintxx109: 54  
PrimroseEverdeenmyLittleDuck: 10  
Programming: 7  
xQueen-of-Applesx: 40  
rising-balloons: 80  
Red Roses1000: 5  
ReignRain: 2  
Rosemarie Benson: 12  
Sagerose the Divergent: 10  
santiago. poncini20: 116  
Seahorse8: 32  
seaotter99: 22  
Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20  
stop-pulling-on-mariazell: 30  
superneet1214: 6  
Skyflapple: 21  
starrymidnight16: 4  
ThisWorldWeHate: 17  
TyeTheLurker (Guest): 50  
the victor of panem: 61  
We're All Okay: 71  
W. R. Winters: 286  
youngpatriot: 24**_

 _ **ALSO, prices are going up as we are officially halfway through the Games (and inflation)! Here are the new ones:**_

 _ **Prices:**_

 ** _Battery (for flashlight/lanterns): 15_**

 ** _Small Canteen (Empty): 22  
_**

 ** _Large Canteen (empty): 32  
_**

 ** _ ** _Blanket: 30  
_**_**

 ** _ ** _Compass: 30_**_**

 ** _Bandages: 35_**

 ** _Pillow: 35_**

 ** _Simple foods (bags of jerky, crackers, or dried fruit): 40_**

 ** _ ** _Socks/shoes/shirts/extra articles of clothing: 40_**_**

 ** _Basic First-Aid Kit: 50  
_**

 ** _Functioning Flashlight: 55_**

 ** _Small Canteen (with water): 55_**

 ** _Iodine (to disinfect water): 57_**

 ** _Matches: 73_**  
 ** _Functioning Sleeping Bag: 80_**

 ** _ ** _Well-functioning Lantern: 90_**_**

 ** _Large Canteen (with water): 90_**

 ** _Night-vision goggles: 110_**

 ** _Tribute's Favorite Capitol Meal: 110_**

 ** _ ** _High-Quality Food (bread from a District, meat, broth/soup): 120_**_**

 ** _Knife: 130_**

 ** _Complex First-Aid Kit: 150_**

 ** _Medicine: 200_**

 ** _Tribute's weapon of choice: 250_**

 ** _Arena Map: 500_**


	33. Night 5, Day 6, Night 6

_The fifth night_

* * *

-Collin, D4M-

When you're living in the dark with someone else, you have to tell that person everything.

I've been in darkness before, it was typical to be sailing in cloudy skies, wind whipping small, cold droplets of rain into your face. Vision blurred by the darkness, by fog, by rain in your eyes, those are remnants of a life I once lived. They were phenomena that were once more than familiar to me. They were parts of life when I used to go out fishing with my father and his crew.

The memories bring back pain. It's far too easy to think about them in the darkness.

We only have one flashlight, and we're saving it for when we really need it. After all, last night was the second time a tribute found us in the night. Both of them were 15-year-olds.

Of course it wasn't easy to steal the lives of tributes so young.

It was a lot easier when they were practically begging for death.

Whatever is happening at night in the Arena is getting progressively worse.

It makes sense that it affected the younger tributes first; they were less experienced and more susceptible to the Gamemakers' tricks. I wonder if any of the other deaths that have happened could be traced to the specters that seem to appear every night.

It's easier when you have a flashlight. If I get really freaked out, I can just turn it on and whatever's happening will go away. Well, the voices won't go away. They're loud and silent at the same time. They echo in my head, and even though I know that they're not coming from my subconscious, it's getting harder and harder to convince myself that I'm totally sane.

In reality, I have no reason to feel guilty for the death of my District partner. I didn't have anything to do with it. I didn't tell her to go to the Cornucopia, I didn't take her life, and I wasn't there to see it happen. I don't know who killed Serafina Anya, but I knew that she didn't have what it would take to be a Victor. She was far too nice, too kind. She wasn't the chosen volunteer, that fact was painfully obvious. From the moment we were on the train together, she tried to get me to be her friend.

This is a fight to the death, and I didn't volunteer to make friends. I volunteered for myself, and for my little brother Tryin. He needs me home. I didn't volunteer to be all cutesy with someone else. I wouldn't have volunteered if I wasn't sure I had potential to win. After my brother and I ended up orphans that were taken in by Uncle, I just haven't been able to feel like I've proven myself. That's why I'm here now. I'm going to win money for Uncle, for Tryin, for my cousins. I don't want Uncle to have to work so tirelessly to care for us. I just want peace, for him and for my family.

I never really asked Uncle if he was my real uncle, but since that's what I'd called him since I was a child I just assume that he is. And, just to make it simpler, I call his children my cousins. My relationship with my cousins is strained. They like to chatter and talk, so Tryin loves them, but I can't handle that personality type very well. When they ask me questions, I freeze up and don't know how to answer. I still don't fully trust them, I still don't feel like I can share things with them. After all, my father, who I put everything into, was so easily swept away from me. Who's to say that it couldn't happen again?

As a Victor, I want control. I want to be able to control my own fate, and Tryin's too. I can't afford to lose anyone else I love. I'm fighting to give them a future. With victory comes fame, with fame comes wealth, with wealth comes influence. With influence comes power. With power comes control. That's all I need. Some degree of control over what happens.

On that fateful day two years ago, that day that we lost the favor of the waters, I had to watch my father's ship sink and know that there was nothing I could have possibly done to save them. When I arrived on shore and started being interrogated, beaten up because I was the survivor, I tried to tell them that I couldn't have saved the crew if I had tried. I knew there was nothing I could've done. But for years and years I still felt the responsibility of their deaths on my shoulders. It wasn't my fault, part of me knew that. But the other part nagged that I could have thought up a plan to save at least two or three other people.

It was torture for me, as I got older. But it also pushed me. It pushed me to train so I could make a change. Have some sort of control. Prevent anything from happening to my brother.

But I didn't come to make friends. Serafina Anya was just too dense to understand that. She wasn't designed for this.

I know nothing more about Vidarr than I learned from his interview. I don't know if he was the selected volunteer or not; he very well could have been, he's trained and fights well. I don't know much about his home life, I don't know a lot about his family, his past, his aspirations, or his hobbies. I know all I need to know: that he's from District 2, 18 years old, and, for now, he's got my back. And he knows the important stuff about me: I'm from 4, I'm 17, and for now, I'm looking out for him. There's more to me than he knows, there's more to him than I know. But I don't need to know, so I don't care to know. He's going to die so that I can win. He knows that if he's going to win, I'm going to die. This is how alliances should be.

However, there is some kind of bond outside of curtness when you travel together, sleep in shifts, and, most of all, try to coordinate your piss breaks. It's not so much that I couldn't bear to see him dead, of course, as I still have a lot to fight for, but it's enough that the thought of losing him forever, the thought of death, is… Slightly unsettling. Or, slightly more unsettling than it is in relation to any of the other tributes.

I sigh quietly, shifting. I have to piss, I know I have to. But I'm really trying not to. I don't want to have to wake him up.

 _Don't do this to me_ , I beg my bladder. _Please_.

I finally realize I'm going to have to surrender. I nudge Vidarr to wake him up, and when I hear him groan and sit up, I flip the flashlight on.

"I'll be back," I tell him, the unspoken need behind it evident.

"Mhm," he says, more of a tired groan than anything. I wander into the darkness holding one of Vidarr's knives for self-defense, with nothing but the beam of a single flashlight to guide me.

In darkness as full and complete as this, one flashlight isn't helping very much. It definitely helps, if you know where to focus the light. I know there's a bush around here, but in darkness as thick and complete as this, I've totally lost my way. I can't see anything that could give me direction. I keep walking. I'm pretty sure this is the way. I keep walking, flashlight moving around, trying to show me the way. Trying it's very best.

I find a bush, not the same one as last time, but a bush all the same. It's not until I pick up the flashlight again that I realize I have no idea where I am and which way I came from. I try to dive back into the expertise in navigating I was once working to develop on my father's ship. For the life of me, I just can't remember anything. I'd shut my past away in a steel box and locked it tight. There's no way I'm going to access any kind of skills I may have started to develop earlier. I start looking, squinting in the darkness, trying to find something that looks even slightly familiar. I spend a long time wandering, and realize I have no idea where I am.

I think of Vidarr just then. I doubt he's very concerned about me. He might be impatient for my return. Or mad. After all, this flashlight was sent from a sponsor to him. If I could get back to our base, I would, but I have no idea where I am.

I sit on the ground, feeling totally and utterly lost. I don't know where to go now, and I don't feel like there's any way out. I have no idea where I am, and all around me all I see is darkness. The flashlight illuminates the occasional rock or tree or patch of tall grass, but the beam doesn't reach as far as any of the attractions, which are really the only points I could use as definite anchors.

Don't panic Collin, I think as I tuck my knees to my chest. I try to remain calm, but the second I sit down, my head is swirling with the sounds of ghosts.

"Collin!" Serafina Anya calls out to me. Her voice sounds like it's coming at me from all around, I can't pinpoint an exact direction or an exact origin point. I start to feel on edge as Amari starts to scream over the sound of her voice.

The noise is intense and silent at the same time. I can hear the noise, but I can't hear anything but stillness all at once. It's a lot easier to handle if there's someone else next to you, breathing, definitely real and definitely alive. Here, I see nothing, I hear nothing, and yet I hear everything. It gets harder and harder to decipher what's real.

I tuck my knees to my chest and dig my hands into my ears, trying to silence the beckoning calls of Serafina Anya, the pleas of Amari and the high-pitched shrieks of Karima. I try to ignore them, but the more I try not to think about them, the more present they become. My heart starts to pound harder, and I start taking deeper, more ragged breaths. I thought I'd be fine, but it really is torture. The flashlight does help, and I realize with a strong pang of guilt in my chest that Vidarr is alone like I am and has no source of light at all.

I hope he's okay. After all, the flashlight that's in my hands is his. I know that I have to find him again and give it back to him so that it remains neutral and fair between us. But, I know that if I wander too much more, I could just get more lost. I decide it's safest to sit it out and wait until the sun rises. But the screaming is starting to get to me. My head is spinning, my ears are ringing, but there's nothing there, I can't see anything, or anyone, anywhere.

I stay curled up into a tight ball, covering my ears, until the sky begins to lighten up, signaling the beginning of the sixth day here in the Arena.

* * *

 _The sixth day_

* * *

-Collin, D4M-

As soon as I can see I start surveying my surroundings. _I couldn't have wandered_ that _far_ , I think. _Or… I sure hope I didn't._

I just have to find him and explain what happened. It's more talking to him than I would've liked to do, but we have a good number of tributes left still, most all of them older. I'd like us to have our mutual agreement for at least another couple tributes. There has to be a point when we break off, of course. But I'm not quite ready for that yet.

As soon as I can see the silhouette of the ride we had been scaling in the distance, I start walking in that direction. I wonder if Vidarr went looking for me or if he decided I wasn't coming back and started planning his revenge. As much as I hate to admit, I don't know him well enough to be able to tell. I don't know if he's sticking to that same path we'd been following or not. Maybe he turned around. He might not be where he was, which is why I have to make good time. I keep going until I hear the footsteps of a tribute approaching and turn around.

I reach back for my trident before realizing that I had left it back with Vidarr, as I'd thought I'd just be right back. I mentally kick myself, a wave of frustration washing across me knowing that I'm practically defenseless. However, I did train with knives, and hand-to-hand. If I combine those skills I bet I still have a chance.

In the dimness of the morning, I can see that it's Kade from District 9. He seems well-supplied, and pulls a spear out from behind his back, taking the first initiative to attack. I notice that he uses it more like a staff, with a sword-like quality as opposed to a throwing spear like Iridesce or someone well-trained in spears might. His attacks start out slow and slightly clumsy, giving me the time I need to fight back.

He sweeps the spear low, trying to knock me off my feet, as I go straight for the deadly hit to the chest or even the neck. He sees it coming, though, and dodges, pivoting to recover and raise his spear again. He still uses it like a sword, which must be his most comfortable weapon, trying to force me backwards with the threat of it. However, spears don't exactly make good swords, demonstrated when I go for offense, as swiftly as I can, taking control of the fight. Now, the best goal is to mark him up; the more blood he loses, the weaker he'll become, after all. I see a bandage covering what must be a deep gash on his shoulder and do my best to aim for there; reopening a wound like that one would mean certain death. I use my strength to bury my knife wherever it will bury, slash whatever I can. The first injury is swift, and when I bury the knife in his uninjured shoulder, he lets out a scream, putting up a foot to kick me in the stomach, sending me stumbling backwards, wheezing.

Now he takes control, putting the spear tip out and jabbing it forward, aiming poorly for the spots that will take me out quickly. His attacks are slightly sluggish, and I can see through his strategy. Since I'm one step ahead of him, dodging is easy. His eyes crease in frustration as he tries to speed up the attacks. When he jabs it forward clumsily, I charge, making a run for his side and sending us down to the ground.

He fights me intensely, and he's really a pretty strong guy. Just to get him to be still, I pull back my fist and punch him in the face, causing him to yell out. I don't want to draw out his death if I don't have to, but if he's going to be like this then so be it. I grip the knife, about to dig it in his chest when he gains enough momentum to send us rolling, struggling. I refuse to be on the bottom, burying my knife in his hand and causing him to scream. He didn't stop though, having the tenacity of a bull as he reached out to get a knife from the belt around his waist and pulled it out. I punch him again, and though his grip loosens slightly he still struggles severely. His face contorts in an expression of pain as we struggle for dominance. He returns a punch and I feel my nose crack in the intense pain of the action. I let the pain wake me up, and keep me with it. I don't stop thinking about myself, my life, why this is important. I land a stab in the chaos, pulling my knife out as I feel a sharp pain explode in my stomach that knocks the wind right out of me. In the second of shock, Kade doesn't hesitate to plunge his knife straight into my heart.

The pain is blinding, and I suddenly can't move, can't see, can't do anything. I can't even breathe. I feel my heart pounding, trying to take care of the problem, but know that it's too late.

Just like that, I'm dead.

I'm never going to make it home to them.

The knife is removed from my chest and my dark blindness abruptly turns white.

~.~.

* * *

 _The sixth night_

* * *

-Riella, D7F-

We're eating a late dinner and waiting for the Capitol anthem to start playing and the seal to appear in the sky.

We had taken bets on who it would be. The thought of betting on who would die like a group of low-life Capitolites, the thought of playing Ally, Torture, Kill, the thought of this as a game, a real-life, fun game where the fun was in the action… These thoughts all repulse me.

But, I'll do anything to get back home to Andy. She's my driving force, she's the reason I have to get home. I don't give a damn about my parents, my family, my reputation, my name. I don't give a damn about money or fame. I don't give a single damn about District 7 or anyone in it, anyone except for one person. I'm all Andy has, and she's all I have. We need to get back to each other.

If I don't come home, who knows what will happen? Andy's rough-hearted at times, sometimes too rowdy and sometimes too much for people. She's very complex and has a lot of layers, and it's not until you dig through some of them that you can really make an accurate picture of who she is. Without me, she has nothing. She doesn't have a healthy support system to help her grieve. All she has are cigarettes and alcohol. And one every once in a while is alright, but they're dangerous, and could do her a lot of harm. I worry for her.

I barely even give a damn about my own life, I would die if that meant Andy was safe, but that's exact opposite of reality. If Andy's going to be safe and live long and be happy, she needs me there. I need her.

So, if playing these morbid games with the Careers is what it takes to get back to where I belong, back to the person I belong with… Then that's what I'll have to do.

"Honestly, it's got to be one of the girls. Either from 3 or 5. Both of them lost their allies and are all alone now," Iridesce says matter-of-factly.

"My money's on Cyra," Maggie chimed in. She didn't sound particularly glad to be playing this game either.

"I don't know," I say, trying not to sound too irritable or appalled. "I guess Cory."

"Or maybe it's that little kid from 7," Iridesce says. I'm not sure what her deal is with him, but part of me is starting to suspect that she's acting this way because he's my District partner. Or maybe because he was the one that set the trap and stabbed Callum. Either way, she doesn't like being outsmarted, and that's what he did. Now, we've been much more careful.

"You probably could've killed him," Iridesce says, sounding bored.

"I was focused on helping my ally."

"That's typical of you outer-District folk. The tendency to help rather than hurt. These are the Hunger Games. If you want to win, they all have to die."

"I figured that one out," I mutter.

"Then why didn't you kill him?"

"Because I couldn't. It wasn't good timing." I wasn't focused on killing Kendal, I was focused on helping Callum and Maggie. After all, allies are supposed to be able to trust each other.

"Callum was pretty vestigial anyways," Iridesce says. "How he always wanted to stay behind and be on defense. We're doing just fine without him. Boys are gross, right?" she laughs, and we both laugh with her.

The anthem saves us when it starts to play, and the only face to appear in the sky belongs to Collin of District 4. After his picture appears for a couple of seconds, it disappears again, and the seal appears one last time before disappearing.

"Oh. Wow! Looks like nobody won there," Iridesce says.

"What could have happened?" Maggie wondered. Had Vidarr turned on him and stabbed him in the back? The curiosity I felt was something I hated. I don't want to know how he died, but at the same time there's a sick part of me that is itching to find out. Knowing would be better for us, of course, as to which tributes are threats and where everyone's located, but I know the curiosity goes deeper and darker than that. That disgusts me.

"It's no use dwelling on it too much," Iridesce says. "It's just one more tribute out of our hair, right?"

"Exactly," I say quietly, and Maggie agrees.

"I'll take watch first," Maggie says, grabbing the night vision goggles.

"Alright, sounds good to me."

"Night."

Iridesce and I both lay down, and I close my eyes.

…

"Psst. Still awake?"

I stay still.

"Someone else can take a turn."

I keep lying still, pretending I'm sleeping, as Callum's screaming rings in my head on top of that of the others that have died.

There's a long moment when Maggie doesn't say anything, that feels like it takes forever. The screams of agony echo in my head endlessly.

"We're clear," Maggie silently picks up a backpack, and Iridesce doesn't stir. I sit up as slowly as I can, trying to drone out the tortured cries of the dead.

"Are you sure we shouldn't just kill her now?" I ask as quietly as humanly possible, silently picking up my axe.

"I'm sure. Let's go."

Maggie links arms with me and together, we start into the seemingly never-ending darkness.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Phew! There we go! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm so so sorry I can't write really intense or well-choreographed fight scenes.**_

 _ **Thanks so much to Collin's submitter, he was really fun to write with and his alliance with Vi was so interesting that I had to linger on it for a while (if you couldn't tell in his POV).**_

 _ **You know what would be really cool? Posting the finale of this Games on Halloween. Don't get your hopes up, though, there's still lots of tributes left and I still don't have too much writing time.**_

 _ **But next chapter, things… are going to change. You'll see what I mean when I post it. There's something to look forward to for next time. A little surprise. Something to change things up.**_

 _ **So, then, you can still sponsor if you want! If not that's okay too. The list will be updated with what everyone has and needs after this chapter is posted. As for the afterlife AU… We'll see. I dunno. I'll try to start on the D6 chibis if I ever feel in a drawey mood.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: YOU give ME a chapter question and answer it. If I like it enough, I'll use it in future chapters and see what everyone else thinks.**_

 _ **Thanks so much for reading, reviews are always appreciated!**_

 _ **UPDATE: I just looked and saw that I just passed 400 reviews! :D Thank you all so very much for all the support, please let me know what you think! I hope you're enjoying the story!**_

 _ **Scores:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 41**_

 _ **Apollo's Slytherpuff Daughter: 113**_

 _ **bagelswift: 2**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 110**_

 _ **CptAwesome: 10**_

 _ **Culturalchicken: 2**_

 _ **deathless. smile: 15**_

 _ **Dreamer: 681**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 215**_

 _ **eldergrayskull: 4**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 98**_

 _ **epictomguy: 24**_

 _ **erica1024 (I'm assuming you're the same person who reviewed as a guest named Erica, but let me know if you're not!): 16**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 64**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **GirlOnFire (assuming you were also the guest with no title): 20**_

 _ **GryffindorOnFire: 9**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 397**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 17**_

 _ **Jess: 582**_

 _ **johnsonmiranda70: 6**_

 _ **Josephm611: 177**_

 _ **Kate: 648**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 127**_

 _ **Legend: 574**_

 _ **Littlefoot876: 2**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 114**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Master Maedhros: 10**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **MicaaAmaya: 4**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **OncerTillTheEnd: 4**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 64**_

 _ **PrimroseEverdeenmyLittleDuck: 10**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 80**_

 _ **Red Roses1000: 5**_

 _ **ReignRain: 2**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **Sagerose the Divergent: 10**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 116**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 32**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **stop-pulling-on-mariazell: 30**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **starrymidnight16: 4**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 50**_

 _ **the victor of panem: 61**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 71**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 296**_

 _ **youngpatriot: 34**_


	34. Night 6 (cont)

_The Sixth Night_

* * *

-Diesel, Co-Head Gamemaker-

Santana's got a mug of black coffee in her hands at 11:30 at night.

"You've been watching all day," I say, leaning back in my chair.

"I know. I'll take the night shift if you want."

"You haven't slept in at least a day."

"I did too. I got an hour or two of rest."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "What, you don't trust me to upkeep things?" The question begins as a joke, but the look on her face tells me she's serious. "…Wait. You really don't!? What the fuck!?" I'm a genius, I dunno what she's thinking.

"It's not like that," the Prude says, taking a sip of coffee. "It's not that I don't trust you to hold everything up… It's just…" she takes a deep breath. "It's just hard to trust my fate away so easily."

"Fate? What the fuck does fate have to do with anything?"

"You know that what happens in that Arena determines your fate, don't you? You don't have control over your destiny."

"What?! Of course I have control! That's why we're kind of on the other side of the force field here."

She shakes her head at me, looking solemn. "You know, deep down somewhere you know that isn't true."

"I have control," I inform her. "I have control over all aspects of my life."

She snorts, and I scowl at her.

"I'm going to stay up," she says. "You can go get sleep if you want."

"I am going to get some rest," I say. "I'm going to go check on my friend Viridian."

"You can't just leave."

"It's relevant, though. I have a question to ask him. It's relevant to the Games."

"If you say," she says. "Make sure your excuse is damn good." Her eyes, naturally brown after having taken her contacts out for the night, search me carefully.

"It is." I give her a nod. "Night. I'll be back before you know I'm gone."

"Sure."

I turn and leave, walking straight to Viridian's apartment.

It's not all too far from the Complex, and I arrive quickly and enter. I go up to the third floor where I know his room is. I've only been in his apartment once before, he just recently moved out of his house and here. I knock on the door, and he opens it uncharacteristically quickly.

"Hi Diesel," he says. He has a bottle of liquor in his hands, and another empty one is sitting on the table. That explains why he's so uncharacteristically flighty.

"Hey," I say, "I have a question for you. It's Top Secret Gamemaking business, though. Can you let me in?" I know that even drunk, Viridian is more musical than anyone else I know. He lets me in, and I take a seat, flipping a small device around in my hands.

"So, what's this question?" he asks, sitting across from me at the table and looking at me intensely. I look up and meet his eyes, naturally a shade of brownish green, and feel my pulse quicken. I clear my throat, telling my predatory urges to keep it down for a second here.

"You have perfect pitch, don't you?" I ask him.

"Hm… Yeah, I think so."

"Think you could help me decode a melody?"

"Anything for you," he says, looking at me intently. "My best friend."

I clear my throat and get to work. I'm about to pull the files I need up on my portable hologram system when a fluffy white cat comes and sits on top of it, preventing me from being able to pull the hologram up.

"Cadenza's glad to see you," Viridian says. I have no idea why cats like me so much. Every time I go to see Vienna her cat always sits on my lap. Cadenza hates people, never liked Vienna, even, and yet she seems to tolerate me. The white cat's gray eyes gaze at me, and I just smile a little bit and give her a stroke across the back. It doesn't take long for her to leave and sit in Viridian's lap, though.

"Want some liquor?" he asks me.

"Oh, I shouldn't. I have to get back to the Complex."

"Oh, right." He takes a swig.

"Maybe you shouldn't be drinking."

"I'll be alright," he says, "Anyways, this melody you wanted me to listen to?"

"Yeah. Well, basically the tributes are reeling over quicker now, and our team is making files for each of the tributes that are left so that if they die unexpectedly, there's no delay in footage we can use for the other tributes." I pass the folders for Maggie and Cory among the others, clicking on the one for Raoul. "What I need from you is an ear to write down what he's singing in this clip. Could you do that?"

He hiccups. "Probably," he says, reaching for a pencil and missing. I go to get him a pencil and find some staff paper. "Alright, ready?"

"Mhm."

I play the sound clip, and Viridian immediately gets to work, scribbling down notes. I have no idea what he's doing, but he finishes and it looks half-decent for him being tipsy when doing it.

"I'm positive that's right," he says. "Are you just going to replay this when Raoul dies?"

"I had another idea. You can make things into minor keys, can't you?"

"Duh. I have a degree in this stuff."

"Cool. Could you do that?"

"Duh. It's really as easy as changing the key signatures." He changes something on the paper and says, "Harmonic minor or natural?"

"Er… Whatever you think." Truth is I have no idea the difference between the two. He scratches in a couple more markings. "Harmonic is more common. It's because of the leading tone."

"Mhm." I'll take his word from it. He hands me the paper, Cadenza's head popping out on the table as her owner shifts.

"There you go." He drinks some more liquor.

"You're not going to go out, right?" I ask him, hesitating as I fold the paper and put it in the pocket of my jacket.

"I don't think so," he says.

Cadenza jumps up on the table and Viridian stands up. "So, you just came to get that melody from me?"

"I came to check up on you. Vienna's very busy playing midwife right now, and Katie's got a lot on her plate as well. How are the girls?"

"Good. They said they were going to bed but I think they're still up talking about the Games and watching." He drinks some more, finishing the second bottle. I'm about to say something but stop myself in favor of a more relevant question.

"Their favorites are still alive, aren't they?"

"I haven't stopped hearing about them." He opens his third bottle and takes a long swig.

I give a small smile. "Yeah. I'm sure you haven't."

We stay in silence for a second, and I can feel his eyes trained on me as he takes another swig.

It's just then that I think to check the time. "Oh, I should be going probably…"

"Right. It was nice of you to stop by," he says, but something about his expression makes me think maybe there's something else on his mind.

"You're going to be alright?" I ask. Not that I really care. I mean, he's my friend, I guess. But still. He's silent, stepping closer to me: closer than he would sober. Before I know what's happening, he's kissing me. His kisses are sloppy and he tastes like the liquor he's been drinking. I kiss him back, though, almost immediately. He kisses down my jaw to my neck, wet kisses with an open mouth.

"Viridian-"

He speaks between neck kisses. "I'd be even better if you stayed."

A hiss escapes my lips. After all, this is what I've wanted _forever_. I've always wanted to fuck Viridian Turner absolutely senseless, give him scars and make him bleed just like I did to old Dennis back in District 12. I started calling him Tweety Bird, because like the bird on the old cartoons, he's always managed to escape my advances. I've been trying for _ages_ to get him mindlessly drunk, or drug him so that I could have my way with him, no safe words, and now it was happening.

He stumbles a bit on the way to the bedroom, and I string an arm around the waist to hold him up. He sits on the bed and looks up at me.

"I decided to drink because Mary Catherine won't give me a second glance," he says, swinging his legs off the side of the bed.

I freeze. He gazes at me expectantly, with the innocence of a little child. He looks so pretty sitting like that. I take a step closer, and stop completely.

"Diesel?"

I realize that I can't use him like this. The thought is hard to process, but I can't flee any longer from it.

"Am I not good enough?" he asks, gazing up at me.

"No… You're… You're too good."

"What?"

I swallow hard. "This is pointless, Viridian. I…" my voice starts to quiver. "You love Katie. Katie loves Vienna. Vienna loves me. And I…" I choke out the words. "I love _you_."

I've never been this humiliated before in my life.

"Diesel?"

"I can't do this. I think you need to get some rest. In bed now, come on." I take his hands and take him to the other end of the bed, helping him take his glasses off and climb into bed. I pull the covers up around him and feel tears pushing into the corners of my eyes. I don't know what is happening, but I can't make it stop now.

"Night Diesel."

"Sleep tight." I hate how my voice quivers and shakes. I leave quickly, shutting off the lights and making sure the door is locked on the way.

I walk back to the complex quickly, trying to swallow down the tears. This is impossible! I protected my heart so well! This isn't fair! I should've just bound him, gagged him, and fucked him! What's happening to me!?

I'm the one in control, I'm the one that decides what I feel and how I feel it, I don't want to be in love with Viridian, I can't be, I can't possibly be, but I know that I'm lying to myself, I'm a damn liar. An actual sob escapes my lips, causing me to grit my teeth, angry at myself.

How the hell did I let this _happen_!? I was supposed to be happy, I was supposed to be in control, and I always get my way. How the hell did this autistic piano player make me feel like this?!

The more important question: Why the hell did I _let_ him?

I tear into the Complex, going into the men's room and splashing water on my face. _Snap the fuck out of this,_ I scold myself. _Get control._ I hiccup, the tears threatening to burst, and splash more water on my face. I look fucking pathetic in the mirror, face twisting in anger as more tears threaten to come out.

 _Get with it, you fucking moron!_ I think. I hate myself for being like this. I hate who I'm being. I look around the bathroom, deflating at the lack of sharp objects. Instead, I use my fingernails, they have the same effect with less blood and less scars. _Snap out of it. Snap out of it. Snap out of it. You fucking incompetent piece of shit, snap out of it!_ I drag my nails down my arm and squeeze my eyes tightly closed. My contacts are _killing_ me, and I feel myself losing it.

 _Get with it. Snap out of it. Damn you._

I manage to conquer the tears, swallowing them down as I splash my face again with a stream of cold water. After that, I use my shirt to dry my face and make sure my black hair is at least presentable again.

I stare at my reflection for a while.

 _I'm going to show them. I'm going to show them all. I'm going to have order. I'm going to take control._

 _I'm going to show those miserable, good-for-nothing snots from the Districts that it's_ me _that controls_ their _fates, not the other way around._

I burst into the Main Complex, and everyone looks at me strangely.

"I want you all to listen to me very closely," I say quietly. "I want them all dead. Every last one of them. I want bloodshed. I want to show our tributes that they are ultimately powerless. They are nothing." The others exchange looks with each other. "We have control," I say, raising the volume of my voice. "I HAVE CONTROL!"

I immediately go to my station, pull up the masterlist of every mutt, disaster, and gimmick we'd even started to create.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Santana shrieks at me, storming over.

"I SAID I WILL HAVE _CONTROL_!" I scream at the top of my lungs, turning around and punching her straight in the face, sending her sprawling to the ground. The room is dead-silent as I select every single fathomable disaster we have.

I have control again, as it should be. I can decide everything for myself again, as it should be.

"Get ready you little bastards," I say under my breath, a smile tugging my lip upwards as I confirm my selections.

"It's judgement day."

~.~.

 _ **A/N: I'VE BEEN WAITING FOREVER FOR THIS. I have a feeling that this plotline is either going to be a hit with my readers or you're going to hate it. But I've had this thought up ever since I was still receiving tributes. Hope you don't mind the Gamemaker interlude, but just know that things aren't going to be the same after this.**_

 _ **Let me know what you think though! Honesty is always appreciated in reviews. It's okay if you forgot who Diesel was or something. I get that.**_

 _ **Anyways, optimism! Right! So now our Capitol plotline is fully submerged in the story plotline. As for who dies next, well, you'll have to wait to find out. I hope you're as excited for this as I am! Hopefully I'll be able to write more soon!**_

 _ **Also, thank you all for the CQs! They were lovely! I'll use them starting next chapter, but for this chapter I actually have one I made up so we'll roll with it.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: How'd you like the Gamemaker interlude? What do you think is in store for the tributes?**_

 _ **Scores:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 41**_

 _ **Apollo's Slytherpuff Daughter: 113**_

 _ **bagelswift: 2**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 110**_

 _ **CptAwesome: 10**_

 _ **Culturalchicken: 2**_

 _ **deathless. smile: 15**_

 _ **Dreamer: 701**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 220**_

 _ **eldergrayskull: 4**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 98**_

 _ **epictomguy: 24**_

 _ **erica1024 (I'm assuming you're the same person who reviewed as a guest named Erica, but let me know if you're not!): 16**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 64**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **GirlOnFire (assuming you were also the guest with no title): 20**_

 _ **GryffindorOnFire: 9**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 417**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 17**_

 _ **Jess: 582**_

 _ **johnsonmiranda70: 6**_

 _ **Josephm611: 197**_

 _ **Kate: 658**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 127**_

 _ **Legend: 584**_

 _ **Littlefoot876: 2**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 155**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Master Maedhros: 10**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **MicaaAmaya: 4**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **OncerTillTheEnd: 4**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 74**_

 _ **PrimroseEverdeenmyLittleDuck: 10**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 80**_

 _ **Red Roses1000: 5**_

 _ **ReignRain: 2**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **Sagerose the Divergent: 10**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 116**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 32**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **stop-pulling-on-mariazell: 30**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **starrymidnight16: 4**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 50**_

 _ **the victor of panem: 61**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 71**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 306**_

 _ **youngpatriot: 44**_


	35. Day 7

_The seventh day_

* * *

-Cory, D5F-

Leo's been talking in my head.

In the darkness, I hear his voice, in my head, that voice that he was using before he died. He wishes he hadn't died for me, wasted his only chance on me. He should still be alive. I should be dead, not him. If he were alive, this hell would be over by now and he'd be back home with his family. It's my fault we're still here. It's all my fault. He died for me, because of me. I might as well have just stabbed him. I'm his murderer. I've taken a life and stolen it away.

The first time he said these things, I was able to believe that it was all fake. In my head or made by the Gamemakers, but fake. He wouldn't think those things. He wouldn't say those things. Now, he's been gone for so long that I remember that we were practically strangers. I know nothing about his home life. He wasn't made to die for me. And he did anyways. But he really wanted that chance to win. It meant so much to him. Not that it doesn't mean anything to me, of course it does, but with him… It was different. He never pictured himself dying. Not with whatever friends and family he had waiting for him back home.

Maybe he would say those things. Maybe he did mean them. Maybe he does regret losing his chance for the sake of me, a stranger that has done nothing but hide ever since. I haven't even _thought_ about avenging him. There are still too many Careers for that to be a possibility. Even if it were one-on-one, I'm not confident I could win. I've pictured myself dying in so many different ways by now. It's a miracle I'm still around. Maybe if he could do it again he would let me die. He had a better shot at winning than I did. It just made sense.

I'm sobbing silently by the time the Arena lightens.

I've been untouched since that fateful day. The Careers went the other direction and I've remained hidden. Every morning when it gets lighter I slip out of the tree I've been residing in, gather food from some of the abandoned carts, and get water from the spicket. I have knives in a belt around my waist now, for self-defense, bandages, and a sleeping bag, which makes sleeping in the tree slightly more comfortable, but also slightly more dangerous. I still have the note tucked away in the pocket of my jacket, right next to the feather Victor gave me after the reaping. The feather, dark as the night, is soft under my fingers. The note is slightly crumpled. I had a hard time trying to read it without light, but in the brightest part of the day my eyes were able to find the words.

"A family in District 12 wants you to win, and they'll do whatever they can do make it happen. I know this because they wouldn't stop begging me to send you this stuff. They're devastated because of the loss of one of their son, but the last thing he did was give you a chance to live. I suggest you take that chance. Good luck, and we hope that the odds will be in your favor."

I can't help but feel like I don't deserve the gifts. If what Leo's been saying is true, and I'm starting to fully believe it is, he would change it in an instant. Keep on fighting for his chance, and surrender mine for his. I would probably change it if I could. But, I have to keep using what I have. So far, the numbers have been counting down and nobody's been back around my area. I hope it stays that way.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath as the sky starts to brighten, signaling the coming of the daytime. It's a relief when all the chaos of the noises comes to silence. Currently, the loudest noises are Leo in my ear, and the screams of an older boy, I would assume Collin from District 4. However, if you smack your hands on your ears hard enough, you can hear the faint sounds of gunshots, or the sounds of a bird.

I reach over to start untying myself out of the tree when suddenly, as if someone dropped a sheet of black silk over the Arena, we're sent sprawling into darkness once again. My heartbeat starts to pick up.

"I should have never given up my chance for a wuss like you," said that voice I had just been beginning to place with Leo's face. I quickly search for the rope, sensing that something about this is not right. What could be happening? What day is it? Why is this happening? There were no announcements about a feast… If I'm keeping track correctly there are still ten of us left. What's going on?

I hurriedly untie the rope and start unwinding it, my hands shaking and my forehead wet with sweat.

Suddenly, I hear a slight crack, and feel a breeze beginning. It has a smell that seems familiar, but I just can't place it.

Suddenly, with an unnaturally strong gust of wind, the tree branch I'm sitting on breaks, and I go falling down, hitting the ground hard on my leg and crying out a bit in pain. Shaking, I don't want to move. This has to be a nightmare. I reach over, hand shaking, and pinch my arm. It hurts, but nothing happens. This is real. I quiver.

"Cyra!" I hear the sobs of my District partner. I recognize them so well, even though he's been dead for days. I feel the need to go out, search for him, try to get him back so he can get back home where he belongs.

The rain starts just as I stand up. Since I got here, it hasn't rained much, but now it was just ice cold. I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself and crying out as I put weight on my leg. I try to find my backpack from where the branch fell, but the darkness is so disorienting and I'm so immobile that the search ends unsuccessfully.

 _Breathe_ , I think to myself. I take a shaking breath, knowing that if I freak myself out too much I'll panic.

"I never should have died for you! You can't even climb _trees_!"

"Please…" I can feel my heart start to beat faster and faster. I can feel a panic attack beginning.

 _Focus. Focus on what's around you. What's real._ The darkness is full and complete. I'm still alive. I hear the screams of the deceased, but at an equal volume. _They're not real. They're not real. They're just here to scare us. They're not real._ My hair is wet from the rain. The rain isn't cold anymore. I realize it suddenly.

A stench starts to fill my nose just then, a stench that is so familiar and yet not familiar at all. In the darkness, it's near impossible to put sounds and smells and even tastes to objects.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning illuminates the Arena, and all I can see is red, sticky blood on my hands.

I scream, and suddenly the noises just become a blur.

"You killed me!" the voice shouts. "You will never wash the blood away! This is your fault!"

I sob, desperate for anything to happen. I tuck my knees to my chest and scream. My screams mesh with Hamilton's so distinctly that I wonder if I'm already dead and in hell. Another flash of lightning brings hot light to the Arena, and I shake.

 _Please, let it be over. Please._ I dig through my pocket, desperate to find the note or the feather, but my hands shake so badly I can't grab ahold of anything. Silently, I beg for any touch of reality. Another flash of lightning burns into my eyes, this time accompanied by a loud crack that makes the tears come more steadily out of my eyes.

This continues for a while, until I feel a rumbling beneath me. Panicking, I go into survival mode, forcing myself to stand as the earth beneath my feet begins to crack and break away. I begin to run, away from there, unable to see where I'm going. Every time I step on my leg, pain sears and slows me down. I don't know what's happening, my entire body is sticky and crusty with the same blood that continues to pour out of the sky, and all I know is that I have to keep moving, as much as it hurts.

I keep going until my body starts to give up, quivering and sending sickness to my stomach as my leg throbs. I stop to heave and recover, when I see the earth in front of me opening to reveal a pit of fire. Before I can make my leg move, the earth beneath me opens up, and suddenly I'm falling into the fires, falling into hell, losing my chance to avenge Leo and make it back home.

I feel the fire burning my hair and skin before I even have a chance to apologize or say goodbye.

~.~.

-Riella, D7F-

" _Why did you let me die!? I trusted you!" Callum's sobbing voice wouldn't disappear. Maggie and I had set up camp after getting a far enough distance from Iridesce, and now that we were settled, the noise was louder than ever._

 _I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my ears desperately. We couldn't have known what Iridesce was going to do. We were going to help him recover, this wasn't our fault. Something about the way he said it made me feel like it is, though. Like there's something we could've done to stop this. Something more we should've done._

" _It was Kendal!" he shouted, sobbing. "Kendal did that to me! It was his handiwork! And you let him go! You could've killed him and you let him go! Who cares if he's from your District, I was your ally! Why should he run free!?" Tears pushed at the corners of my eyes. "You can't kill Kendal! You can't! You're going to die all because you can't kill some pathetic kid that comes from the same place you do! You're going to fail!" My lips quivered but I swallowed down the tears before they came._

I'll do it if I have to, _I thought._ But if I don't have to, why should I? Why should I turn the whole District against me? They already are, in a way.

 _The screams continued, though, pulsing in my head and making me feel like I was going crazy. I grabbed Maggie's ankle for support and out of a desperation for reality._

I can't be afraid _, I thought._ I have to be strong. It's getting down to the wire here. Soon it really will be kill or be killed. Every death is one step closer to where I belong.

" _You were my allies, I considered you friends!" he sobbed at me, at us. I grit my teeth._

I can't be afraid. I have to be fearless. Andy is fearless. She's never afraid of things like this, _I thought_. She loves scary movies.

 _Sure, her fearlessness makes her reckless sometimes, but I needed just a piece of that right then. "Why did you betray me!?" he sobbed, sounding so desperate my heart broke a bit. After all, I'm still human._

What would Andy do? _I thought desperately_. What is Andy doing right now as she's watching? _I thought about it through the eyes of my girlfriend watching at home._ What would she be doing right now?

 _I knew what she'd do._

" _Shut up Callum, I'm tired," I said, after just a second's hesitation._

 _Yes. Andy would've definitely made snarky-ass comments, just like she probably would've to real tributes, which would've gotten her in trouble. But these ones couldn't hurt me._

 _Maggie gave a slight laugh at my Andy comment. At least I could lift the mood a little bit. It didn't last long, though. Callum's screams of agony were replayed over and over again, on top of the screams of that boy from 11. I decided to try again._ What would Andy say? _I tried to picture sitting next to her in the small TV room, feeling the warmth of being nestled into her side as we watched the screen, covered in blackness with ghosts screaming like this. She'd turn to me, her lips going up in a smirk, and she'd say…_

" _Not our problem. Wasn't my axe. Take it up with Iridesce you guys, I'm trying to sleep here."_

 _Maggie laughed again, and a small smile appeared across my lips. Hey, when I said that Andy saved my life, I meant it. She did it again and she wasn't even there that time._

 _Thinking of this as a joke, or imagining the ghosts as "edgy" angst-lords, made it almost comedic._

" _No need to be so dramatic. Yes, you're so edgy, you like vintage music and wear black a lot. Alright. Leave us alone."_

 _Maggie laughed again, a noise that had become almost foreign to me. Even if we couldn't get very close in a fight to the death like this, it was nice to hear._

 _Sleeping that night had been easy._

The memory is still fresh that morning when I wake up. It's amazing how perspective counts in these things. The sky starts to brighten and Maggie and I split some of the food we'd taken for breakfast.

Just as I finish eating, though, the entire Arena goes black.

"Maggie?"

"What just happened?"

"Where are the goggles?"

"I'm getting them." She shifted away from me and I could hear her searching for them. Suddenly, the noises started up again: all of them in their horrible glory. The gunshots that represent Nautica make me jump. The screams from Karima are piercing. There's so much chaos, so much noise, that it's hard to pull and Andy and make a snarky comment.

"R-Riella!" Maggie says, sounding scared as a gust of icy cold wind causes both of us to shiver.

"What? What is it?"

"They're not working!" she sounds panicked and close to tears. I know that I need to do something, anything to calm her down. Rain starts to fall out of the sky, rain that feels like pricks of ice it's so cold. I can hear Maggie shivering just as the sounds of a wailing baby overtake my ears and ring in my head.

"You liars! Betrayers!" Callum sobs into my ear. I cover my ears, trying to make it stop. I just need a second to think, if I can think for a second I can figure this out.

Maggie turns on a lantern just as the rain stops being cold. A familiar smell fills my nose, and when I look in the light, I can see that this isn't ordinary rain.

"Make it stop!"

"Maggie, hold on."

"Please!" she shouts and sobs. "Please make it stop! Stop it please!"

"This is my blood on your hands!" Callum shouts.

"I'm so sorry Callum!" sobs Maggie. "Please make it stop Callum, please, Riella, make it stop please!"

The sky is illuminated by a flash of white as a shard of lightning strikes the ferris wheel. At the crack of thunder, Maggie jumps up, screaming and sobbing, and starts running.

"Maggie! Hold on!" I follow the light, close enough that it can't disappear into darkness. Maggie keeps going, almost too fast for me to keep up with, and doesn't stop for a while. The little light stops moving in the distance, and I keep jogging to catch up with it, supplies in tow. Before I can get any closer, though, another enormous burst of light sends me backwards with a loud boom that makes my ears ring, striking the roller coaster and sending it crumpling. I hear another piercing scream come from Maggie, and quickly run as fast as I can the rest of the way, trying to find her.

"Maggie!" I shout, looking around quickly. "Maggie!"

The screams have long-since ended abruptly.

Another flash of lightning illuminates the damage. Where the huge roller coaster once was lies a pile of rubble, under which my ally lies. If a cannon was shot off, I haven't heard it, but I slowly give up hope. The light of the lantern was put out. Maggie is dead.

Another bolt of lightning gives light to more horrors on the horizon, and I can tell that this nightmare has only just begun.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Ahhh I'm sorry it's been so long since I last updated! I hope you can forgive me! Good news is that I recently got on a SYOT hype all over again, so hopefully from here on in I'll be giving this full effort until it's over. Oh, hey, we're down to eight now if I'm correct. Huh. Interesting. I guess next chapter will be another interlude with final 8 interludes.**_

 _ **First, a few announcements: first thing is that the 84 afterlife!AU has been started and is up on the blog. Yay! Hopefully I'll continue it soon. I really wanted to do this chapter first though.**_

 _ **Second thing: Sunday nights, starting at 7, I'm going to stream drawing and maybe some AU writing if I'm not in a drawing mood. Check the Silhouettes blog for details and the link. I'll also be taking some requests for an hour or so, so if you're interested, please pop on!**_

 _ **Third thing: The rest of this story is going to go by quicker than we think, so I've posted a poll on my profile for what you would like to see next/what you would submit to. Please, check it out and vote. I want to write things that people will submit to, and your opinion matters to me.**_

 _ **Alright, I think that's all for now. Thank you so much to all the submitters that have stuck with me and reviewed, I appreciate every review so much and it really gives me motivation to update.**_

 _ **That being said, here's our chapter question, provided by W.R. Winters: If you could go out on a date with any of the tributes(living or dead) who would you choose, and where would you go? And just for kicks and giggles, what tribute would you want to be the awkward third wheel on that date?**_

 _ **Since I'm not asking this question, I'll answer it: I would probably want to go on a date with… Raoul. And we'd go see a symphony concert together. Hm… My awkward third wheel… Well, I mean, Kendal would just be texting Gravity fucking Stowers the whole time anyways. Lol.**_

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	36. Final 8 Interviews

-Blaine Buchanan, Head Interviewer-

I sit on a couch in the train, prim and proper so that I don't mess up my hair and make-up as we speed to District 1.

"Do you have any idea what happened? It was so weird. In all my years of Hunger Games, I've never seen anything like that."

"I don't know. What I do know I'm not allowed to tell," I say, biting my lip. "I… I think it's all a part of the plan. Diesel and Santana know what they're doing." I hope it's all a part of the plan. I haven't seen either of them in at least a day.

"So, on your way to your first final 8 interview, eh?"

"That's right," I say, smiling at the hologram in front of me.

"You're so grown-up. 22 years old. My boy… 22 years old."

"Oh, stop it. You always knew I had the fight in me, didn't you?"

"I know," she says, wiping her eyes. "I just can't stop thinking about that day I thought I would lose you… My baby…"

"Which one?" I give her a big smile. "Yet, here I am. You did a good job on me, Mama. You and Dad both."

She wipes at her eyes some more. "My baby, a Games interviewer. You never let any of it stop you."

"I had no reason to. With you and Dad behind me there wasn't anything I wasn't willing to try." My mother cries, and I laugh at her. It's not malicious. My mother always gets this way around this time. She gets so worked up with pride and love. I didn't do anything spectacular. I just worked hard. Now I'm reaping the reward.

"I'm so proud of you Blaine!" she takes out a handkerchief to blow her nose.

"Four years and you're still a hot mess," I tease, which makes her laugh through teary eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so proud of you."

"It's fine," I say, smiling. "Although I still hate to see you cry over me."

"Baby, these are tears of joy. I'm so proud of the young man you've become and the accomplishment you've earned." The waterworks start up again.

"I miss you, Ma," I say. "After we get a Victor, I'll give you and Dad a visit, okay? And Doodle, too."

"She looked up with you said her name." She laughs through the tears. My mother picks up the small lapdog, who wags her tail. "She misses you."

"Hi Doodle, I miss you too! It's decided, I'll see you then. Now stop crying, you big softie," I tease, causing my mother to laugh some more and pat her eyes.

"I'll see you then, Dear."

"We're pulling in. Gotta go! I love you, Mama."

"I love you too, Honey, stand proud!" I wave to her and Doodle before hanging up the call and following my advisors out of the car. I stand with a bodyguard to either side of me, though District 1 is the most benevolent of the Districts. The crowd cheers and waves and applauds for me as I'm lead to the first address of Iridesce's family.

The first interviewer is with Iridesce's birthmother, York, and it goes as smoothly as all Career District interviews do. After that, we go to a second address, where I interview her step-brother next. Alabaster gives a short, slightly curt interview. I'm sure we're not going to use most of the footage in the program. I interview her father Indigo next. He is slightly tense at first, but his wife Radiance helps to warm him up to the cameras, and he gives a sincere interview.

"Now, we're here with Iridesce's step-mother, correct? Radiance."

"Yes, that's right Blaine." The woman gives me a kind, relaxed smile, which I return.

"So, from what I've seen and heard there's no tension between you and Iridesce? Even though by blood, she's not your child?"

"There's no way I could possibly dislike Iridesce for a reason as petty as that. I've known her since she was just a tiny two-year-old, and I've seen her grow and develop into a strong, independent young person that is going to change the world. And I'm here in the background, cheering for her."

"So, you've been around for a while. Did you have a hand in raising her?"

"Of course. I wanted to be the best influence I could. I did everything in my power to teach her how to stand up for herself and how to make her voice heard, no matter what society told her was normal or conventional. I can't take credit for her strength, that's something she's always had, Blaine, I'm sure of it, but I hope that through my example I helped her grow."

"That sounds wonderful." The smile comes easy and I feel more relaxed as Radiance flips the brown hair behind her shoulder.

"Radiance, if you don't mind my asking, could you possibly share a moment or memory about Iridesce that you hold particularly dear?"

Radiance giggles. "Well, I could easily embarrass her. But I'm sure that's not exactly what she wants at this moment in time on national television. Let's see… Well, I was with her the first time she saw a frog in person."

"A frog?"

"Yes, Blaine. Iridesce was 3 years old and I was watching her play outside. I looked down for two seconds to check my nail polish, and she was gone! I searched all around to find her, knowing that her father would kill me if I lost his pride and joy. Well, she hadn't gone far, only around the corner of the house, and she was holding a frog in her little hands."

I laugh, knowing the Capitol will eat this story up. "Oh, no!"

"Oh yes. Well, Blaine, I was stunned. The frog knew it was in the hands of a warrior. Luckily she let it go before she did any harm to it. I knew from that day the kind of potential she had.

"So, what would you say to her now, if you could?"

"I would tell her to keep her head up, keep her guard up, and…" she shrugs. "Keep doing what she's doing."

"Well, that's all we have time for, but thanks so much for being here, Radiance! Next up, we go to District 2 to talk to Ayesha Yggdraval of District 2!"

.

I keep apologizing for how my team practically burst into Ayesha's house uninvited because we were running late and took forever to find the place, and Ayesha keeps on crying about her now-soiled macaroni and cheese.

"I'm really sorry," I coax her, and she wipes her eyes with a weird mix of a laugh and a sob.

" _I'm_ sorry," she says with another laugh sob. "They weren't kidding when they talked about mood swings." She keeps laugh-sobbing, and I get a box of tissues for her. She takes one and blows her nose, eventually getting control of her tears. The room is small, and dim, but homely. The couch on which we sit is right by the small television. I take a second to admire the Capitol night-vision cameras, that show the tributes clear as day even though they can't see anything themselves.

"Think you're alright to do the interview now?"

"Yes, I'm sorry." She sits still as some of them as they brush her brown skin with make-up and try to make it look like she's been having plenty good nights of sleep since Vidarr was sent away.

The cameras start rolling and the interview begins.

"So, I'm here with Ayesha Yggdraval, Vidarr's wife, correct?"

"Yes, that's right. He calls me Ashe, usually, though." She keeps smiling.

"I'm sure things have been pretty quiet and lonely without him."

"For sure, Blaine." Her lower lip starts to tremble and I start to backtrack. I don't want her to cry during the interview. That's the last thing I need. "Well, Vidarr's doing quite well in the Arena right now, right?"

She nods a bit, regaining her composure.

"Can you tell us a happy memory you have with Vidarr?" I ask, hoping this isn't going to make her too emotional.

"There are so many, Blaine. Too many to count." She sniffles and pats at her eyes. "One would be… I guess… Christmas Eve." She reaches up and wipes her eyes. "He went out and bought me a ring. It was starting to snow and I was so worried he was stuck or lost or in trouble." She sniffles again. "He had been saving for months for it. He came home with groceries, but he cracked as soon as I started probing him for the full story." She giggles a little bit through misty tears. "That big dork. He didn't have to buy my anything, I'm just happy to be his wife."

"Can we see the ring?" She puts out her hand to show off the band with a gemstone the same blue as her eyes.

"Oo," I say, knowing the rest of the Capitol will do the same. "That's beautiful. As a Victor, he'll be able to buy you anything you could ask for."

"Not just me, Blaine." I wasn't sure if she was officially going to go there, but it seems as she is. The Capitolites will go crazy for this. "Another Yggdraval's going to come into the world." She smiles and pats her stomach lightly. I know that Pit was trying to put together enough for a sponsor note with the news to send down.

"You look wonderful," I say, "And we wish you the best."

"Thank-" she freezes, her eyes widening.

"Ashe? Are you alright?" Maybe she's having some kind of trouble with the pregnancy, or…

Ashe closes her eyes and screams at the top of her lungs.

It's just then that I look at the television, where lion mutts with manes and tails of fire pounce on top of the boy from District 2.

"VI!" she shouts, tears pouring out of her eyes. She runs over and picks up the television, shaking it desperately as the room is suddenly full of her husband's screams. The high-quality cameras show the bloody, gory details all too clearly. "NO! VI!" Ashe collapses to her knees, screaming. My team starts packing up. I can't make myself move. The pain fills every inch of my body, watching her grief. A cannon doesn't boom, but the lions leave their prey. He's not even recognizable anymore after being singed and torn to pieces by the mutts. "PLEASE! NO! VI!"

"Mr. Buchanan," one of my associates grabs me by the shoulder. Ashe lets out a screaming sob.

"I can't just leave her," I say quietly, my eyes filling with tears.

"We're already running late."

"Ashe, are you going to be alright?" She doesn't even answer me. It's as if I'm not there, nobody is there, it's as if she can't hear or see anything. She stays doubled over on her knees, sobbing and screaming his name.

"Blaine. Come on. You don't want to be a target of the President, do you?" he has to ask it loudly over the screaming and sobs coming from the young woman on the floor. Only a teen, pregnant, and now, alone. My heart breaks for her. I want to stay. I want to help her. I want to bring Vidarr back to life so he can be by her side.

I'm pulled by the shoulder out the door, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"We'll film a conclusion and edit it in later," is the only sentence that breaks the silence.

By the time we get on the train, I can't stop sobbing. My make-up team yells at me, but I can't stop. This is what the Games are. This is what the Games are doing. What is that poor girl going to do? I can't fathom how she's going to make it all alone.

"Just breathe, Blaine, you're doing well. Two down, six to go."

I realize that this hell is only just beginning, and try to swallow my tears. I try to tell myself they deserve this, for the Dark Days. Why is this poor girl, no older than I am, being punished? I don't understand it. I shake the pictures of her doubled over, sobbing, out of my mind as we pull into District 3, and put on a happy face. No matter what, I'm a part of this, and I can't change it now.

In District 3, I talk to Cyra's mother Ina first. Her father is out working, and from how Ina sounded when she said it, this isn't anything new. I talk to Cyra's brother Isaac, and his wife Rochelle. I fawn a bit over their little son Greg, but when memories of Ashe start to surface, I quickly move on. After the family interviews are done, the last interview is with her boyfriend.

"Here I'm with Cyra's boyfriend Lennon! So, Lennon, how long have you and Cyra been dating?"

The boy's brown eyes have a soft, sentimental to look to them as he says, "Ten months. It'll be eleven in just a couple of days, actually."

"Ah, yes, the joy of young love. A joy that some people have yet to experience." I wink at the cameras for good measure.

"It's been a joy. She's a joy. She brings joy wherever she goes. Joy and light. She can always lift my spirits. Always has been able to."

"So, why don't you tell us a bit about how you got together?"

"Well, I fell for her pretty hard and pretty quick. I'm not a shy man, Blaine, I'm not afraid to step up and say how I feel. I was upfront about my feelings. And she turned me down. She wasn't ready for a relationship at the time. At the time she was only 16 and I was 18, which is a pretty big maturity gap if you consider, and the way her life was, she wasn't ready. I tried to get her out of my head for, maybe a year, and it wasn't working. Everything always came back to her. We spent more and more time together, and every time I learned something new about her I just fell for her again and again. It was a vicious cycle, falling for her, trying to get over her, and falling for her again. Luckily for me, the stronger our bond as friends got, the more she fell for me too. I'm so lucky she loves me back, I could never move on from her."

"Well, you are indeed quite a lucky man. Cyra has plenty of admirers in the Capitol, but I'm sure after getting one look at how happy you make each other we'll all support your growing relationship."

The 20-year-old runs a hand through his dirty blond hair. "I miss her so much. But she's in the final 8- well, final 7 now."

I swallow a lump in my throat.

"I know she can win this. She's strong. She can handle whatever is thrown her way. I need her back by my side, Blaine. I have no idea what I'd do without her. She's made such an impact on my life… If I'd only known that our time could be cut short I would've enjoyed every minute twice as much, I would have held her tightly and close, I would have told her I loved her every day, every time I saw her, every time I felt it."

"So, what would you say to her, if you could?"

"I would say…" he swallows a lump in his throat. "I would tell her that she's doing well. She's in the final 7. She's so close to making it back. She just needs to remember how close she is and keep fighting until she's the Victor. I have all the faith in her and I need her back here."

"Thank you Lennon. Next up, we're going to District 7 to talk to the friends and family of Riella Delani and Kendal Beck!"

.

Since Riella was reaped first, she is the first of the 7 tributes to have her family interviewed. Her parents don't provide much, as they just tsk and tsk and talk about how she's dead to them, whatever. Really, just a waste of precious time. The one we really need isn't related to her anyways.

I knock on the door of the small apartment, and as soon as the door is opened, the smell of cigarette smoke assaults my nostrils, causing me to cough. She brushes the dark brown hair behind her shoulders, her hazel eyes smirking at me.

"What, you can't handle some dirty-ass District apartment?"

Now I can see where Riella got some of her snark from.

"You must be Andy."

"You must be one of Satan's henchmen."

I do everything I can not to scowl. I find that if you just continue to be kind it's more likely to open people up.

"Well, come in, if you can handle it." She laughs and goes in the apartment, and I follow her. It's dim and small and cramped, and is eerily similar to the apartment I was in when I was in District 2. I repress the memories as my team sets up and I do everything I can not to cough. Soon enough, the cameras are rolling.

"Well, I'm here with Andriea Barreil, Riella's girlfriend." I can't hold the coughs in any longer, as hard as I try.

She gives a snort but doesn't say anything (thank goodness). "Andy. Only Andy."

"Alright, Andy. How long have you and Riella been a couple?"

Andy just shrugs. "Who cares? We are one now and that's what matters. We will be for a long time. Anniversaries don't really mean shit."

"Alright," I say, wishing she'd keep the cursing down. I feel like she's going to be hard to manage. I can't imagine what she would've been like in the Arena. Either self-destructive, or a tribute straight out of Diesel and Santana's worst nightmares. I can't decide which. I don't want to think about it. "Are there any stories you have with her that you'd want to share?"

"I could talk about all those times we fucked," she starts.

"Er, that's alright, please…"

She laughs, knowing full well what she's doing and that she's making me very uncomfortable. She also knows that she's the only thing we've got for Riella, therefore she's guaranteed to be shown on TV for all to see, including Riella's parents.

"Alright, alright." Her fingers find the necklace around her neck, a gold chain with a birdcage charm. "She got me this for my last reaping," she says quietly. "It matches a tattoo I have." She pulls up her shirt slightly to show the camera. "It was a total surprise. She told me to look for it after she was reaped."

"Yes, she was talking to you when she was reaped. What was she saying?"

"She told me she wanted to do this. Not to volunteer. I didn't." She keeps a totally straight face, but I see pain in her eyes.

"Well, she's certainly doing her District proud in there."

"I'm proud of her," she says, quietly, genuinely. Not to pat myself on the back, but I don't think my golden touch has worn off yet. "I'm _so_ proud of her."

"And you have all the reason to be. What would you say to her, if you could right now?"

"I would tell her that she knows what to do." Andy perks up again, refusing to stay vulnerable any longer. "I'd tell her to do it for the drunk-off-our-asses victory sex. Mm, she's so fucking hot when she gets dominant, I'd let her have her way with me all night long."

I clear my throat awkwardly, hoping that our editing team can change that into something more kid-friendly. If not, I suppose the Capitolites will think it's hilarious anyways.

"Next up, across the District to talk to the friends and family of Kendal Beck!"

It's a longer drive than expected to the camp where the Becks are. I begin interviewing his parents, who seem exhausted. They are busy people, Rube working as a teacher that travels to different camps and Catherina out and about working to keep the tree population up. However, since Kendal was reaped, they've both been home, and I can tell they've barely slept. Between both them I would guess about 2 hours. After their interview I talk to Kendal's Aunt Linnette, who is extremely kind and energetic.

"I had no doubt you'd be here talking to me," she said cheerfully. She whole-heartedly believes Kendal's got it in him to go all the way.

Finally, I interview Kendal's best friend, Agata Ingram. She's a girl with dark skin and dark hair in two tight pigtails and thick glasses. I'm not surprised, looking at her, that she would be friends with Kendal.

"Now I'm here with Agata Ingram, Kendal's best friend. So, Agata, how did you and Kendal meet?"

"How did I meet Beck? Well, it all started because of a stupid research project. I had been looking in the library for, like, a million years, and I still couldn't find any stupid books about pine trees. So I was bored to death and just, like, needed a second to get it together, so I laid on the floor."

"On the floor?" I ask, laughing, knowing that the audience will have the same reaction.

"Yes, that's right, the floor. And this nerd comes over and asks me why the heck I'm laying on the floor. I'm like, 'what's this guy doing?' So I was like, telling him about this stupid, no-good project. But really that nerd actually likes books and wanted to get one, and he couldn't get past me because of how I was laying. But I decided that if he had his own motives, I should too. So I got him to help me research. And from there it's history."

"That's certainly one of the most unique origin stories I've ever heard! You have a truly unique and special friendship then, huh?"

"It's…" she sighs a bit. "Yeah, it's been kinda lonely without him around. And quiet. He always went on and on about random facts that literally nobody will use but…I miss it. He's like my brother. If we're separated too long I actually start to miss habits like those."

"Well, he's been doing well. After all, now that he and Raoul are split, he has the majority of the haul that he won from the Cornucopia and from sponsors."

"Sponsor him more!" Agata says quickly, staring at the camera. "He's brilliant and adorable. Did you know he has a photographic memory!? I know, I've seen it! He's the one that's going to win, hear me?! Sponsor him more, dammit! You hear me? You won't regret it!"

I give a small chuckle. "Hear that Capitolites? Get sponsoring!" I laugh a little bit, knowing that the crowds love a good call to action.

"Yes, Kendal Beck, District 7, just in case you forgot, but if he met you he wouldn't forget you because he's super smart, and he's good at tying knots and identifying berries. Also, look at that face. He's single and ready to mingle. He's adorable."

I laugh, trying to reign the stallion back in. "Well, Agata, I think we've gotten just a bit off topic here. If you were standing next to Kendal right now, what advice would you give him?"

"I would tell him that my good friends at the Capitol are going to sponsor him with lots of good presents soon because I told them to and because he's a genius."

"Alright, besides that?"

"I would just tell him to keep up the good work. Keep his eyes open. Use what he knows to get ahead of the others. He's not out of this race yet. He's so close to making it back here. And we need him back. And so do you. He's not done contributing to society yet."

"Thanks so much for your time Agata, but it's time for us to move right on to District 9 to be acquainted with the place Kade Fields calls home!"

.

It's thunderstorming by the time we arrive in District 9. The weather doesn't seem to be getting any better as we drive out to locate Kade's best friend Sophia. When we finally reach the girl, lightning flashes and thunder booms loudly, causing me to jump. The girl doesn't even seem bothered.

"Let's take her to the Justice Building," one of my associates says, and after threatening one of my attendants with a knife, she gets in the car with us.

Next to my fashion-savvy make-up team, the wet, starving, homeless girl from District 9 almost looks like a different species. You can't get much more different than that. The girl doesn't take long to go from cold and defensive to absolutely amazed, though.

"Good to meet you Sophia," I say, turning around to smile at her from the passenger's seat.

"Hey," she says quietly. She still looks a bit in awe.

"Have you never ridden in a car before?" I ask.

"I've never even touched one."

"Never touched one!?" Everyone in the car is shocked. Cars are such a necessity in the Capitol. How do these people get anywhere?!

"Never."

"Maybe you could try driving back," I say, to which her eyes widen and I get a cold look from the man in the driver's seat. "Alright, maybe not. But there's a much better view from the passenger seat, so you can have it on the ride back." I really try to control my kindness toward the outer District people, but ever since the horror of this morning, I can't stop it anymore. These people need support right now. Not scorn.

We stop at the Justice Building and get out, going into the lobby for the interview. It takes my prep team longer than expected to get all the tangles out of Sophia's hair and clean the dirt and grime off of her. I wonder how long she must have been living like this. How much longer she'll have to do this. If Kade wins, surely she'll be able to live somewhere, under a roof of some sort. But if he dies… She's alone. My heart breaks for this girl.

Soon, though, before I can give it much more thought, the cameras roll and I'm interviewing.

"Now I'm here with Sophia Cole, Kade's best friend. Welcome Sophia."

"Thanks Blaine." She acts like a totally different person with all the dirt and grime cleaned off, hair combed through.

"So, have you and Kade known each other for a long time?"

"Not really, no. Only about a year, maybe a bit longer."

"Oh, wow. Fast friends then?"

"Allies first. Friends after."

"Yes, Kade seems to exhibit that pattern, doesn't he?"

Sophia looks slightly hurt at the comment, but brushes it off. "I guess," she mutters.

"So, you two worked together a lot?"

"We always had each other's backs, since we first met. I taught him everything I knew, and in return, he defended me and stayed with me. I had become far too used to being lonely, back in those days. Having a companion was something I'd totally forgotten the feeling of. And now, just like that, I'm alone again."

"But not for long, right? After all, Kade's doing exceptionally well, and he has a huge following in the Capitol."

"Right. Not for long. He's got it in him to get back, I know he does."

"Speaking of Capitol fans, just from person to person… Is there anything going on between you and Kade?"

"Huh?"

"Y'know… Romantically?"

She clears her throat, thrown off by the question as her cheeks are brushed with pink. "No. Nothing. We're just friends."

"Well, that opens the door for plenty interested fans, doesn't it?"

Sophia swallows hard and gives a curt nod. "Yes. As long as they treat him right."

"Ah, but our Capitol treats our Victors like royalty, of course!" I pause for the crowds to applaud, but Sophia just tries not to make a face.

"Yeah," she says quietly.

"So, is there a story as to how you met?"

"I wish we had some adorable story, but not really. After a while, you just kind of learn how to tell the people that live on the streets. It comes from a long time of experience. He was kinda tailing me and we decided instead of beating the shit out of each other in a fruitless attempt to gain something from it, we should work together. It took a while for me to warm up to him, and even longer for me to trust him. But from there, it was history. We were unbreakable."

"So, some of those fighting skills he showed against that boy from 4… We can attribute them to a wise teacher?"

She snorts a little bit. "I never said I knew what I was doing. I just showed him how to kick people in the balls and dash."

I laugh. "I'm sure it was more than that."

"I guess. I'm sure he'd give me all the credit, but he worked hard too." She smiles slightly.

"So, what would you say to him, if you had the chance?"

"I would tell him… To keep fighting with everything in him. Go all-in, fight hard, never give up. Make it back. Win a life for yourself. Make a name. I know you can. You have the spirit in you. The fight. Keep at it, never look back, never doubt your skill. Please make it home Kade. I need you here."

"Thanks so much for your time, Sophia. After the break, we travel to District 10 to talk to the friends and family of Raoul Keaton!"

.

District 10 is amazing to me in just how gloomy it is. You imagine 10 to be a sunny place with lots of animals and hospitable people, but on a stormy day like today it just looks sad. It doesn't take us long to find the small shelter in which Raoul's parents live.

When we arrive, only Raoul's father is present, but he agrees to sit for an interview anyways. Raoul's mother is still working through all of this pain and grief. After talking to them, we locate a couple of Raoul's close friends. The first friend, Sire, doesn't take long to find at all considering he lives just a minute or so's walk from Raoul's house. The other one requires a bit more of a distance, as Drake lives in the wealthier part of the District. I enjoy some refreshments at Drake's before the interview, which goes quite smoothly. After that, there's only one name left on the list: Raoul's brother, Reuben.

The 20-year-old looks surprised when he opens the door and sees us there.

"Hello. Reuben?"

"Yeah…"

"Mind if we come in for a quick interview?" It's awkward if I don't introduce myself, but it'd be just as awkward if I did, considering everyone in Panem is required to watch me narrate the deaths of their children. I don't tell my mother how much this job bothers me, as it's everything I always wanted as a child and it would just upset her too much. Just like I did when I was fighting cancer, I'll grin and bear it. I've gotten quite good at that.

"Oh. Uh, sure."

His house is dim and the storm outside provides no natural light. My team gets to work setting up lights and cameras.

"Why are you here? I haven't talked to my brother in three years." He seems bothered, turning away.

"We'll talk to anyone and everyone. I'm sure you have plenty to say about Raoul."

He's quiet as my team does last-minute preparations before we start rolling.

"Now I'm here with Reuben Keaton, Raoul's older brother at 20 years old. So, Reuben, what's your relationship with your brother like?"

"We haven't talked in years," he reiterates, seeming slightly annoyed and very defensive.

"Why is that?"

He clenches his fists and takes a breath. "I left after our parents and I had a… Disagreement."

"Oh?"

He gives me a harsh look that says he's not going to be pushed any further for details. "Yes."

"Well, you've seen him on his quest to the Arena and through the Games. I'd say that he's doing his District quite well. Would you say you're proud of him?"

Reuben swallows hard. "Yes." He flips some wavy brown hair out of his eyes nervously.

"I don't know about you," I say to the cameras, "But I certainly wasn't expecting Raoul to be the District 10 tribute in the final 8 this year. In fact, I would've expected the roles of our two tributes to be reversed."

"Hey, shove it. This is my brother we're talking about," Reuben says defensively, but his body language shows how hurt he is.

"You're right, Raoul has certainly surprised us! He hasn't really done much on the offensive as of yet, but do you think he might?"

"He'll do what he needs to do to win."

"Are you worried about him now that he's on his own out there?"

"No. He's never needed anyone else before. It was going to have to happen sometime. He knew it as well as any of the rest of us. He'll be fine. He's so close to winning at this point, he knows what's at stake."

"Well, I for one certainly hope that's true. I'm sure there are plenty of Capitolites whose hearts have been warmed by our shy little musician from District 10. It's times like this when we're reminded that shy tributes are totally capable of winning. They have in the past. Even tributes that trip up the stairs to their reaping." I take a pause for the audience to laugh at the memory. "And yet, every year we still fall into the pattern of severely underestimating our social caterpillars."

"Raoul is perfectly social. He's friendly and kind and he has lots of admirers. He's not a social caterpillar, he was just in shock at crowds and the prospect of the Games."

"Well, he obviously had no reason to be afraid, because he's officially in the final 7."

"He is." Reuben bites his lip.

"Do you regret losing contact with him, Reuben?"

The boy gives me an icy glare, but when I look back at him genuinely, the ice in his brown eyes melts into sadness. When he speaks, it's quiet. "Yes. I do. I shouldn't have been so rash. I should've gone back. I had too much pride to do it, though."

"Well, maybe you can patch things up if he makes it back home."

Reuben stares at the floor, but nods.

"So, if you could say anything to him right now, what would it be?"

"I would say… I'm sorry for how I acted and what I did. I hope he'd forgive. I hope we can rebuild our relationship. I still care about him and want to make things right again."

"Thanks for your time, Reuben. Stay tuned, for the friends and family of our last but certainly not least tribute, Martina Reyés!"

.

District 11 is so dreary, but the people I see watch me, wide-eyed, as if still in shock one of their tributes made it this far. I walk straight forward, associates on either side of me, and try not to look at the people on their knees and begging for me to spare a cent. It was hard for me to learn to just ignore them, but my first year interviewing in 11 I gave some of them change and President Snow almost killed me for it. I have to be careful. But, I'm used to having a high risk of death.

First, I talk to Martina's parents. Her father is kind and gentle, and her mother is fiery about her daughter and her chances of winning. After, I talk to her brother Tristan, and his wife Mariah, while their little 1-year-old Demarcus babbles happily and loudly. Then, I talk to Martina's other 3 siblings together: Leah at 16, Trey at 13, and Marleen at 5. It's another smooth interview. Her family is certainly large, but they're all kind and hospitable, and invited me to eat dinner at their table even though they really didn't have to, and I'm sure feeding me and my crew would take a harsh toll on them.

The last interview of the year is of Martina's boyfriend.

"Now I'm here with Jackson Dawson! Welcome, Jackson!"

"Thanks," the 22-year-old says. Four years is quite a difference between 18 and 22, but he seems passionate about her.

"So, Jackson, how did you and Martina meet?"

"We met working together. We were kind of curt to each other at first, but eventually she worked her way into my heart, and we've been happy together ever since."

"So, you're quite happy. Excuse me if this is intrusive, but have you considered marrying her?"

He blinks, a bit shocked at my forwardness. But, he gives an honest answer. "Y-Yes, of course I have. She's the only light I have in the darkness of my life, and I'd be absolutely miserable without her. I… I'd want to spend the rest of my life with her. I've been holding off, though… Until we were both done with reapings. But…"

"Now she'll come home a Victor. Are you sure you can handle being a Victor's husband, if she says yes?"

"I want to be Martina's husband. I'll do anything. If she did me the honor of marrying me, I'd be the happiest person in District 11. I know everyone says that, but I really mean it when I say it."

I pause for the crowd to "Aaaw!"

"How sweet," I say quietly. "Surely she'll say yes."

"I sure hope so."

"But, first she has to make it home. Of course, she's certainly capable of it."

He nods a bit, the light reflecting off his bald head. "Yes, I know what she's capable of. She can and will do anything she sets her mind to, including winning the Games. She'll be back in no time. She'll be back here soon. I just hope she'll give me the time of day back here in 11 when she can shoot so much higher."

"Well, with the relationship it seems you have, I'm sure she'll be back in your arms in no time. Did you give her a token to take into the Arena with her?"

"Yes. She took a gift from me with her."

"What was it?"

"A cherry blossom. I gave it to her a while ago in place of a promise ring, which are hard to come by in a place like this. It's kind of dried and withered by now, though, but… Yes. She took it." The mood seems to lighten a bit.

"Well then, surely that's a sign that she's not going anywhere," I say decidedly. "She is certainly well-loved by her District and especially her family. How do you keep track of them all? I'm trained and I can't!" I laugh, knowing the audience will do the same.

"I don't interact with them very much, but as I said, I'll do anything for Martina. You just learn. When in doubt you just say "kid" and all of them will respond."

I laugh some more, and Jackson cracks a small smile. "So, if you could say anything to Martina right now, what would it be?"

The mood gets more serious again. "I would tell her how much I love her and how much I want to see her come home," he says quietly. "I would tell her to keep fighting, keep believing in herself, and keep on doing what she's doing. She knows what she's capable of. Just six more, Martina. Six more and you're home."

"Well-said. Thank you so much for your time, Jackson." I turn to the cameras, which are zooming in on me. "And thank you, citizens of Panem, for tuning into another exciting round of Final 8 Interviews!" I can't let my eyes show the sadness of knowing that there are only 7 left. "Mandatory watching time will commence immediately following this program. Have a good evening, everybody!"

"Cut!" says one of my advisors. "That's a wrap."

I shake Jackson's hand and am escorted back to the train in the storm.

 _Another year of successful interviews_ , I think, sighing in relief as the train pulls away, starting back to the Capitol. _Hopefully they're good enough that I get to live another year._

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Hey, that's not as long as I thought it would be! Still long, but hopefully not TERRIBLY long. So, here's our final 8! (Er, final 7. Thanks so much for Vi, Legend, I hope his death was creative and took you by surprise!) I hope you're all satisfied with the tributes left and which loved one I chose to focus on for their interviews. Let me know what you think, reviews are always appreciated!**_

 _ **Well, the poll for what to do next didn't help. So I'm eliminating a couple of the options and making a new poll, and I'd really appreciate it if you voted on that once again. What I'm thinking is doing another normal SYOT now, doing a second chance SYOT after Masque is over, and doing a collab with Dreamer that's Mary Sue-ish after we finish 96. So I hope that's cool! But if one thing gets, like, a million votes it's subject to change. So I'll post that poll as soon as this is posted.**_

 _ **This Chapter Question was brought to you by Dreamer! Here it is: If you were in this arena, where would be the first place you would go to hide?**_

 _ **For me, I dunno, I'd probably try to hide behind the ferris wheel and then I'd try to go back to the entrance. I'd probably die in the bloodbath, though, not gonna lie.**_

 _ **Review and let me know what you think! Next chapter I'll make a poll for Victor to see what you think, because I haven't decided on one yet.**_

 _ **Thanks a bunch for the support! If you wanna watch me draw/write AUs check the blog and pop on Sunday at 7!**_

 _ **Scores:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 41**_

 _ **Apollo's Slytherpuff Daughter: 113**_

 _ **bagelswift: 2**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 110**_

 _ **CptAwesome: 10**_

 _ **Culturalchicken: 2**_

 _ **deathless. smile: 15**_

 _ **Dreamer: 736**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 80**_

 _ **eldergrayskull: 4**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 98**_

 _ **epictomguy: 24**_

 _ **erica1024 (I'm assuming you're the same person who reviewed as a guest named Erica, but let me know if you're not!): 16**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 64**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **GirlOnFire (assuming you were also the guest with no title): 20**_

 _ **GryffindorOnFire: 9**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 447**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 17**_

 _ **Jess: 582**_

 _ **johnsonmiranda70: 6**_

 _ **Josephm611: 207**_

 _ **Kate: 683**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 127**_

 _ **Legend: 584**_

 _ **Littlefoot876: 2**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 155**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Master Maedhros: 10**_

 _ **MissVolturiKingsfan: 4**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **MicaaAmaya: 4**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **OncerTillTheEnd: 4**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 94**_

 _ **PrimroseEverdeenmyLittleDuck: 10**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 80**_

 _ **Red Roses1000: 5**_

 _ **ReignRain: 2**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **Sagerose the Divergent: 10**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 116**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 32**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **stop-pulling-on-mariazell: 30**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **starrymidnight16: 4**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 50**_

 _ **the victor of panem: 61**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 71**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 316**_

 _ **youngpatriot: 44**_


	37. Night 7

_The seventh night_

* * *

-Raoul, D10M-

" _It's getting kind of down to the wire."_

 _I could see Kendal perk up from where he was sitting. "Hm?"_

" _Y'know. Not both of us can win."_

" _Oh. Yeah."_

 _Awkward._

" _I feel like… Maybe… We should…"_

" _Split. Right." He didn't sound happy about it, but we both knew that this is for the better._

I have to make it back home, after all. I have to get back to my family and to my one true love, the violin. I'm not done changing the world. In fact, I've only just gotten started.

" _Peaceful split?" I asked, swallowing a nervous lump in my throat._

" _Peaceful split." Kendal started going through his pack. "The night-vision goggles are yours, and so is this food. The rest is stuff I won from the bloodbath and got from sponsors."_

" _Yeah, right." He handed me the goggles and food. "Thanks."_

" _Mhm."_

" _Well-"_

 _I saw Kendal stand up. "This is your spot. I wouldn't want to stay here much longer, anyways. It won't take long for the others to figure out where you are."_

" _Oh. Right."_

" _But, to each their own. So, um…"_

" _Right. Yeah."_

 _Kendal walked away from me so I could barely make out his features anymore._

" _Thank you for sticking by me, Raoul. I'll see you on the other side."_

I'm not exactly sure what that means, but I couldn't have thought of any better parting words myself.

I was alright until the darkness fell. Suddenly I couldn't find anything anymore. After moments of silence when all I could hear was my heart beating, I could hear rain hitting the top of the carousel. I stayed huddled there for a while, until I heard the voice of a smug Iridesce, waiting to hunt me down. The footsteps sounded so real, as if they were coming closer and she was ready to kill me. I couldn't risk it any longer. I got up and ran, I ran out of there and into the storm.

The gigantic roller coaster is now in shambles, and I sneak around behind that until I hear a noise.

Edgard starts screaming in my ear. It's a different kind of scream than has been happening before. This time, there's no doubt in my mind that that scream is coming from the outside, from the open. Edgard keeps screaming. I cover my ears, and the noise muffles and I feel better, until I hear another scream that I recognize far too well. Vera. Suddenly I start to panic. I don't know where they're coming from, but if they got my friends into this Arena with me, I'd have to find them. I start running blindly, not sure what to do. When I hear Kendal screaming, I clap my hands over my ears and squeeze my eyes shut, anything to make it stop.

I feel something that feels like a dart swoop down and grace across my back painfully, letting out another scream. I know I need to keep running, but I can't make myself get up and move. I keep covering my ears, trying to silence the screams of my family, my friends, Vera of all people. I've barely even talked to Vera and somehow they know what to use against me. I feel another dart-like thing cut across my back and cry out loudly. Surely I'm going to die here. Surely someone is going to die.

I sit by myself, holding my ears, until suddenly an even louder noise assaults my ear-drums. When the pounding of metal on metal stops, the screams are gone.

I freeze, unsure of what happened, and practically jump out of my skin when I feel a light touch on my back.

Kendal takes my hand and helps me up, smirking. "Did you know that jabberjays have an intense hatred of loud and sudden noises?" He drops the pieces of the roller coaster that he'd been banging together.

"H-How did you know-" I gasp out.

He smirks. "I know what Agata's screams sound like from those times we chased each other around. I knew it was an imposter. The impersonator they used sounded ever-so-slightly different from Agata. I put two and two together and decided to test my theory. It was right."

"Thanks…" I say sheepishly.

"Mhm." He shouldn't have helped me and we both know it. We'd agreed to separate, after all. It was too nice of him. He had mercy on me. He should have let those birds kill me.

Kendal doesn't say anything else, though. He turns around and runs the other way into the distance, as more lightning illuminates the sky and thunder booms.

.

-Cyra, D3F-

I wander around the halls of darkness.

I have no idea how long it's been, I have no idea where I am, and I have no idea what's going on.

Ever since I've ended up in this hell-hole with the specters of my allies chasing me around, I've been trying to get out. It seems I'm lost in an eternity of mirrors. I've been using my flashlight as sparingly as possible, knowing that the batteries are going to die sometime if I keep on using it. Not like it helps me know the way out of this maze.

Some time ago, the darkness fell and stayed. Since then, my flashlight has been basically useless, and I've just been walking around, skimming the wall with my fingers with the hope of feeling some kind of door handle or even just unique marking that will tell me I haven't been walking around in circles for the past who-knows-how-long. The only light I've had was that of the thunder outside, that shone a bright white and practically shook the whole house when it boomed. I don't know what's happening outside, but part of me thinks it's best to just stay in.

Finally, when my legs get tired, I sit down and open up my backpack, reaching blindly for the bag of dried fruit left in my backpack. It's the only food I have left. I hope that this will be over soon, because if I run out of food, it'll be a slow, painful death. I don't want Lennon and my family to have to watch that.

I draw my knees to my chest as the room starts to shake some more with another strike of lightning. I hope it's stable enough to stay up…

My heart-rate quickens. _What if the Gamemakers are aiming for me? What if they make lightning hit the building?_ I start to panic, jumping back up to my feet so much that I get light-headed. I've barely slept at all. The only sleep I've gotten was very light and very brief, and I'm exhausted. My body moves slightly sluggishly as my head stops pounding and I keep walking, quicker this time, trying to find the door.

Suddenly, I hear a voice.

"You've hidden in here long enough."

I scream a bit. "Wh-Who said that?!"

I see a ghost-like Silhouette. It's Kendal. "Found you!" he taunts.

"N-No… You're not real…" If it were really him, I wouldn't be able to see him so clearly. This is fake. This is an illusion.

Kendal raises a knife and charges for me. I don't know if he can hurt me, but I don't want to find out. I start running.

"What, are you scared?!" Kendal taunts me.

"Poor Cyra's _scared_!" I hear Raoul's voice.

"She just _knows_ she's going to die!" Kendal laughs.

"Who gets the honor of killing her?" Iridesce asks. "I want to kill both 3 tributes."

I keep running, trying to tell myself they're not really here. I keep on running, looking behind my shoulder to see the figures of the other tributes, now realistic-looking shadows that could catch me at any second, continuing to chase me.

I scream, tears squeezing out of my eyes.

"Why don't I kill you, just like your pathetic little ally!?" Martina shouts, and it pounds into my head. She laughs. I keep screaming. I have to get out of here. This has to stop.

I keep running, glancing back, as the others taunt at me and laugh in my head. I run until my body runs full-force into something. I sprawl out across the ground, standing up quickly. I feel around, hoping this is some kind of door, when suddenly the unfathomable happens.

A hot flash of lightning strikes down the center of the fun-house, and I'm thrown backwards by the force of the thunder. The thunder booms as I hit the ground, sending an intense pain that feels like it's exploding in my ears.

I feel nothing but searing pain as I look up and the building around me is clear as day, the light of a fire illuminating it.

I force myself to get up, coughing as smoke enters my lungs. I know I'm going to have to get out of here, and fast. I start to move, going as fast as I can. I try to cover my nose and mouth as I try to find the way out of the fire, focusing on nothing but putting one foot in front of the other to get the hell out of there.

I run through the fire, coughing and spluttering, until I see the darkness and run towards it, allowing it to engulf me.

I gasp for air, coughing. During the time my mouth is open, though, drops of rain touch my tongue, and I realize with horror that this isn't just any kind of rain. It's blood.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I scream at the top of my lungs.

However, I before much time stop cold at the realization that _I can't hear a damn thing_.

.

-Iridesce, D1F-

I don't know how long this has been happening for. I don't know how long the Arena's looked like a disaster of hell. I know that it has to stop soon.

I sit on the ground and tuck my knees to my chest. The darkness is so thick I can practically touch it when I wave my hand out in front of me. I don't know where anything is anymore. I don't know what building I'm leaning against. I don't know what else is out there. I don't know anything. All I can smell is blood, hot sticky blood that's crusted on my hands, clothes, in my hair, and it keeps coming. The lightning continues to boom. I want to go home. I need to be home. I don't want to be here anymore. I want to be dry and in my bed, shelter, with no worries.

N…Not that I _am_ worried. I could still easily take these other tributes. I have nothing to fear, right… If I run into Vi I'll be able to kill him. Maggie and Riella know better than to face me. I can do it. I can take them on.

That doesn't mean I want to.

I shiver a bit with chills, even though the blood is warm and, if anything, making me sweat. I stink, and I probably look like a creature from a horror movie, but at this point, I can't make myself care.

I nibble on some dried fruit that I received from a sponsor, and try the night vision goggles again. They make things slightly better, but even with them I can barely make anything out. I just want to see light again… I want to be back home with my family, even if they annoyed me, and I want to tell Diamante that volunteering isn't what it was made out to be. The Games are serious and Gravity is lucky he isn't here right now. Now, I wish the same had happened to me. At least I would be safe and warm and happy with my friends. I would get over it. Now, though… Now, there's no getting over this. I doubt I'll ever be able to sleep again.

Lightning makes a scar in the darkness and booms loudly, causing me to jump again. They always take me by surprise and the noise is starting to make my ears ring.

I'm about to beg to make it stop, but before I can I take a breath. I can't show my vulnerability. Not now of all times. I have to be the strong one that everyone wants to sponsor. Shaking, I manage to get up to my feet.

 _Nine more tributes, Iridesce,_ I tell myself. _You just have to kill nine more tributes and then you're back home. Just nine. Maybe this will take out one or two. Not all hope is lost._

I start walking, not sure where I'm going at all but hoping that I'll find something. I keep walking until I see a light source up ahead. I approach it cautiously, not sure what's happening.

Suddenly, I hear screaming.

 _Real_ screaming.

I quickly grab my weapon. If I make a kill during this crazy time, I'll surely be showered with sponsor gifts. I start slowly towards the noise. The noise stops abruptly as I approach the huge fire that's consuming one of the buildings. I see a figure by the fire and get my spear.

I can't see much of the girl from 3 but a small shadow in the darkness, but I know that I can get a direct throw if I just move a little bit closer. The figure doesn't move and seems almost dazed, as if she's zoned out, but I can't be too careful. Another bolt of lightning strikes and thunder shakes the ground, causing me to gasp, but Cyra doesn't even flinch. I move in closer, thinking maybe this will be an easy kill.

Suddenly, she turns around and notices me. She starts the other way as fast as she can go, and I start to chase after her. The direction that she's running, she's either going to have to choose death by me or death by fire. The poor suicidal little pansy.

I lose sight of her but keep hot on her trail, knowing that pretty sure she'll be cornered. I keep going, moving close to the fire, when I start to wonder if she might not be at the end of a trail after all.

I move in closer to the fire, trying to use the light to figure out where she could have gone. Suddenly, I'm brought to the ground by the girl from 3, who has a knife in hand. My fighting sense immediately kicks into action, and we struggle against each other. If she hadn't had the element of surprise on me, she'd be dead right now. It's no worry, though, surely I'll be able to figure it out.

I start to focus on getting my spear hand at an angle where I can jab with it, but Cyra keeps struggling. Things suddenly get very bright as the fire inches closer to us.

"You'll burn too," I spit at her through a laugh before coughing as smoke comes in my nose. "You'll burn to ashes _with_ me!"

"YOU KILLED DUCTOR!" she yells so loudly I can't help but cringe a bit. "SHUT THE FUCK UP, _BITCH_!"

What has gotten _into_ her? I can't say I'm not interested.

She holds the knife to my chest, and I fight her off. Suddenly, I smell smoke, and too late realize that my beautiful hair has been set ablaze. Another bolt of lightning strikes as the stench of blood fills my nostrils. I squirm and fight her roughly, desperately trying to get her off of me as flames lick my cheeks and forehead.

Agonizing pain crawls down my head, and I can't hold in the screams anymore. This is becoming dire. I have to fight her off.

More flames consume us, and the light burns into my eyes as I cough and hack, feeling like I'm choking. Before I can see anything, I feel a sharp pain driven into my chest as the weight is lifted off of me.

I see Cyra's silhouette starting to run away, and in my last moments, strike her clean in the middle of the back with the final, most perfectly-placed throw of my entire existence.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Pretty intense chapter here! Hope you liked it though. Let me know what you thought! It's really getting to the point where I've been going back and forth on tributes for a while. I hope you guys're enjoying the story though! And to Dreamer and Crystal, thanks for your tributes! I hope I did them justice and gave them interesting/intense deaths!**_

 _ **Alright, down to five. I have one more poll up for what I should do after this, and I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think! I'm pretty torn. Next chapter, though, I'll have a poll up for Victor! :D That's so exciting!**_

 _ **Also, there is a moment of epic-ness in this chapter that I've LITERALLY BEEN WAITING TO DO SINCE THE FUCKING REAPINGS AND FIRST PERSON TO FIGURE OUT THAT MOMENT WHY NOT I'LL GIVE YOU 10 POINTS**_

 _ **Alright, this chapter question comes from Peppermint! Is there a certain tribute you feel deserves a second chance at life? If so, which one and why?**_

 _ **My answer is yeah, I think a lot of them that would've made fine Victors. Three that come to mind are Vidarr, who deserves a chance to get home and be a cute dad, Rachel, although honestly she probably wouldn't want one, she would've just wanted more time to look after Kade, and Edgard, just because he was so confused and sweet and could've done so much more.**_

 _ **Scores:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 41**_

 _ **Apollo's Slytherpuff Daughter: 113**_

 _ **bagelswift: 2**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 110**_

 _ **CptAwesome: 10**_

 _ **Culturalchicken: 2**_

 _ **deathless. smile: 15**_

 _ **Dreamer: 746**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 85**_

 _ **eldergrayskull: 4**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 98**_

 _ **epictomguy: 24**_

 _ **erica1024 (I'm assuming you're the same person who reviewed as a guest named Erica, but let me know if you're not!): 16**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 64**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **GirlOnFire (assuming you were also the guest with no title): 20**_

 _ **GryffindorOnFire: 9**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 457**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 17**_

 _ **Jess: 582**_

 _ **johnsonmiranda70: 6**_

 _ **Josephm611: 217**_

 _ **Kate: 683**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 127**_

 _ **Legend: 584**_

 _ **Littlefoot876: 2**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 175**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Master Maedhros: 10**_

 _ **MissVolturiKingsfan: 4**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **MicaaAmaya: 4**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **OncerTillTheEnd: 4**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 104**_

 _ **PrimroseEverdeenmyLittleDuck: 10**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 80**_

 _ **Red Roses1000: 5**_

 _ **ReignRain: 2**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **Sagerose the Divergent: 10**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 116**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 32**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **stop-pulling-on-mariazell: 30**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **starrymidnight16: 4**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 50**_

 _ **the victor of panem: 61**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 71**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 316**_

 _ **youngpatriot: 44**_

 _ **Drop a review to let me know what you think!**_


	38. Day 8

_The eighth day_

* * *

-Kade, D9M-

I don't know how long this has been happening for. Any idea of time I may have had before is completely gone. All I know is that too long, this has been happening for too long. The blood rain hasn't stopped, and the thunder has only become louder, more powerful. From my hiding spot, I see a fire, and it's only growing. No cannons have boomed, and I begin to wonder what's happening.

 _What if…?_ No, impossible. _Surely there's no… Rebellion._

I've never heard any talk of rebellion, but… It would make sense. Maybe. After all, the lights went out ages ago, and haven't come back on. Disasters have been simultaneous and horrific.

I lift what's remaining of my shirt to look at the burns and scratches across my stomach. I had found myself pursued by mutts, lions from what it seemed, with flaming manes of fire. I barely managed to hide and go undetected before they were distracted by Vidarr. He's dead. There's no hope he's alive. So I have to wonder who else died.

 _What if I'm the only one still left? What if they're waiting until everyone is dead? What if… What if…_ I can't fathom why this is happening. Maybe it was part of the plan this whole time. Although, with no one shooting off cannons, I have to wonder. I can see visions of rebels, strong men and women dressed in black, storming the HQ and shooting Diesel Bundren in the face before taking Santana hostage. Clearing out the control rooms. But, if that's the case… Why hasn't anyone saved us? I would like to know what's happening.

I put more medicine on my wounds.

"Those don't look so good."

My heart skips a beat. This isn't the first time I've heard the voice. Every time I hear it, it feels more real. It feels like she's here again.

"It's not real." I can't stop myself from having an ounce of hope. I know better.

 _Dammit, Kade, get it together! She's dead! She's dead just like Lydia, and Mom, and Gabi!_

I clench my fists.

"It's not real," I say quietly.

"Might want to get those checked."

"Shut up." Even though it's not Rachel, it doesn't feel right for me to say that to her. Er, to it. Whatever it is.

"I'm only trying to help."

"Shut _up_!"

Suddenly, I hear a noise, and look up, gasping at the sight. It's… It's…

"District 9…"

It's Iridesce.

But it's not Iridesce. When the figure steps closer, I see the grotesque creature in front of me. I shouldn't be able to, not in this kind of darkness.

"It's not real…" I mutter.

Half of her face is melted off. All of her hair except a single strand has been burnt off. Her eyes are practically popping out, and her guts are spilling out as she holds them in. "District 9…" she repeats, over and over and over again! I tear my eyes away from the figure as my heartrate increases. _It isn't real. This isn't real. Get yourself together Kade. Dammit, Kade! It reeks like blood._ Thunder booms, and I practically jump out of my skin. I have to get away from here.

"You can't catch me!" taunts a little voice that's haunted my dreams for years.

"No."

"Get me Kade!" A wisp of a little girl darts past me, chasing a little white bunny that runs out ahead. "Come on!"

"No. You're not Gabby. This isn't real. She's dead."

"District 9…"

I glance back and gasp again. The figure moved closer. I immediately start to run the other way.

The giggling of little girls fills my head and causes tears to come to my eyes. I can't break down. Not here.

The bunny makes a U-turn and whizzes around my head. This would be amazing, if it weren't here and now. A laugh that sounds like Karima's fills my head and I double over, covering my ears to make it stop. Anything to make it all stop. I try to scream to drown them out, hoping that something will end my misery. I need silence. I need it to stop.

The sound of a gunshot makes me jump, and the laughter that is accompanied by it. The sounds of a baby crying. Rachel whispering in my ear. Iridesce's voice saying my District. Karima laughing. Amari screaming. Everything is happening at once, and it's overwhelming. I'm screaming, I can't stop screaming, I can't focus on anything, I feel like I'm going insane and I can't do that, I have to win, for Sophia, I have to get back to Sophia, anything and everything for Sophia because she's the only person I have left.

I keep screaming, even if a tribute will find me let them find me, at least it'll be something real. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to drown out the noise. I hear footsteps, whispers, breathing, and I have no idea if they're real or not.

I try to control my breathing, but sobs escape my lips. I can't stop it. I can't do anything.

Yet again, I am completely and totally powerless.

 _Dammit Kade._

I can't do anything to stop the torture except sit here and wait for the madness to be over.

~.~.

-Martina, D11F-

My legs are raw.

I've scratched and scratched. Now they burn and sting, and still they itch. The skin is raw, and within as little as 12 hours of no treatment, could turn black and start to wither.

Astogenivick.

Defined by a citrusy-type scent.

It's one of the plants that I studied when I was training. Very, very uncommon. Genetically engineered. Just a light touch causes poison to spread over the afflicted area. In the chaos of the storm and the 15-year-old boy whose blood is on my hands screaming in my head, I didn't catch it as I knelt to hide from the storm. I only realized it too late. I know that by my scratching my legs, the poison could have spread to my hands, under my finger nails. I have to take the initiative here. I have to end this so I can get this treated fast, or else I'm as good as dead. I don't have time anymore. I have to end this.

The blood in the wounds isn't helping. As soon as I realized I was kneeling in poison, I got up and quickly ran from there. Just as I was leaving the tent, lightning struck. I can't help but feel thankful.

Now, my legs feel like jelly. I can't move fast, but I have a sword and a weapon of choice, and the determination of a stubborn mule to get out of here and back to where I belong. I've been through too much hell to die now.

I take frequent breaks on my search for tributes to regroup, trying to ignore the reek of blood in my nose and the constant thunder.

I watched as the roller coaster was struck by a powerful bolt and was reduced to nothing but ashes.

On one of my breaks, my legs start to shake. I stay on my feet, afraid that if I stop to sit down I'll never be able to stand back up again. I gasp for air, trying to get a breath, doing everything I can not to open my mouth for fear of getting a taste of the blood.

"Martina! Help!" I hear a shout. It's… Edgard. No, this isn't possible. _This isn't real._

It's not in my head this time. I cover my ears and the noise muffles. For a second, I think that he might be out there, somewhere. I take a weak step forward, wheezing, before I stop myself.

 _It's not him._ I repeat it like a mantra. That doesn't control the urge to go check on him. Suddenly, a dart-like… Thing slashes across my back, causing me to scream in fear and pain. I have no idea what it was. Another attacks. I start to retreat, trying to get as far from there as possible, when I realize the fire from one of the buildings is spreading quick. I have to move.

Everything in me wants to give up. My body is begging me to stop, to rest but I know that I can't. My adrenaline levels are through the roof as I keep on moving, running straight forward.

The flames lick my back, but I don't stop. Even when I realize it's useless, I don't stop. Even when all I can see in front of me is brightness, even when my body screams out in pain, I don't stop.

Smoke fills my lungs, causing me to choke, and finally, to fall on my knees on the ground.

I can't believe this is how it's going to end. I didn't even get to apologize. I keep moving, using my arms to guide me, trying for anything. I cough some more, and my vision starts to fade. _This can't be it. This can't be it!_

Edgard and Hamilton scream loudly in my head, trying to divert my focus. I don't let them. I have to focus on surviving. I hear the gunshots, the baby, Ductor's voice screaming, Vidarr's agonized screams, Wren cooing at birds and Serafina Anya giggling, Cyra crying out. All of them are happening at once, it's too much, it's too much dammit it's too much!

I pause for just a second, my body quivering.

Suddenly, I feel a rush of coldness, and the pain stops. I gasp, coughing, on air. When I open my eyes, the darkness has been replaced by the dimness of the day. I can see almost clearly now. The fire is gone, the rain has stopped, and the voices and chaos has silenced.

I collapse so I'm laying on the ground, gasping for air, watching the sky.

I'm alive.

Right now, that's all that matters.

I'm _alive_.

Then, the cannons shoot.

 _One._

 _Two._

 _Three._

 _Four._

 _Five._

The second bloodbath has come to an end.

I'm alive.

Just then, I hear screaming. Real screaming. It sounds like Kade. I know that I have to get to work ending this quickly, and it seems as if I don't have many tributes in my way anymore. I sit up slowly, and then try to get up.

My legs shake, but they aren't moving.

I realize with horror that it might be too late.

~.~.

 _What if all the plans you made_

 _Were not worth the price they paid?_

 _Even with the lives you stole,_

 _Still no closer to your_

 _Goal_

-Diesel Bundren, Prisoner #35741-

I sit alone.

I'm on high surveillance, as if the bastards in charge think that I'm going to try to run away.

It's too late for me. The only thing I can hope for is that he doesn't touch my girls. Viridian. Ross. _Santana_.

I have no control.

Ha. That's probably what the prude wanted all along, huh? I bet she's pretty smug by now. Her marriage problem's just been solved. All I know is that I'm not going to take my death like a coward.

I don't know how long I've been sitting here. The cell is dark and dim. Everything is concrete. There is no bathroom, so it smells like shit. I haven't been fed in what feels like days. My stomach aches for food and I've barely slept.

I pick at a scab on my arm. I've been clawing at my arms so much that I'm not phased by the blood. I know Katie wouldn't have wanted me to do that, but then again, Katie didn't effectively put everyone she loves in danger, did she? Rutilus is ruthless. He's not going to have mercy on me. I could let him fuck me sideways, however he liked, however many times he wanted, and he still wouldn't hesitate to kill them. Every time I close my eyes, visions of my family and friends paying the price for my sins flash before them. I can't sleep. I've been lightly in and out of consciousness but never asleep.

After what feels like weeks, the door to my holding cell opens. I thought I would be able to kiss his ass when he came here, but just seeing his face makes me seethe with rage. Joltee escorted in by two body guards, but stops them at the door.

"No need to follow me anymore, Lieutenant Statius, Lieutenant Vorenus. I'm not afraid of him." The two men nod and step back, the door closing behind them. I hear a slight hum and know what's happening.

"Not afraid of me my ass! Take down this goddamn _forcefield_ and say that! I've subdued you once and I'll do it again, just test me!"

"You poor thing, you must be delusional. I'm not the one that lost my bonkers and ruined everything."

"I didn't ruin it!"

"What if we had not stopped you? What if this had been the Games with no Victor? What would the nation have thought. What anger and hatred and rebellious thoughts would we have had, hm? It's a good thing we stopped you from stealing anymore lives."

I swallow hard, remembering what I have to protect, and hold my place.

"I have to say, I'm interested. If I wasn't so interested," he chuckles, "Well, I would have killed you right then and there. I decided to spare you because I'm so fascinated. Why? Why did you do it? What made you, the unbreakable Diesel Bundren, snap?"

"I'm not saying a word."

"I suggest you speak. I may not be merciful if you don't."

"I… I didn't _snap_. I…" I swallow a lump in my throat.

"If you lie, we will know. If you lie, your entire family will die. The girl with windy buns. The pianist."

"It was just-"

He speaks very slowly and clearly. "We will know if you _lie_."

Tears form in my eyes, and I do everything I can to stop them. I can't let my family die because I was stupid. I can't let this be the reason my sister's life is cut short. I can't be responsible for killing everyone I love. I can't risk it. I have to tell him.

"Time is running out!" he says.

I burst, a loud sob tearing out of my throat before I can stop it. "It's because I love him! It's because I'm a fucking coward that can't even love someone without fucking it up and damming it to hell! It's because I will never redeem myself, it's because I'm scum and disgusting, it's because I violated _everyone_ and because nobody will ever love me, especially not someone as perfect as Viridian!" I'm in hell. Of all people to hear this, Joltee Rutilus is the last person I wanted to see that. I can't stop sobbing now.

"Hm. How very interesting."

Another sob tears out of me and I start screaming. "Do whatever the hell you want with me, rip my organs out one by one, break every bone in my body, make me bleed and cry for mercy, shove your dick in my ass, in my mouth, choke me, come on my face, tie me up, shoot me ten times, leave me on the FUCKING _FLOOR_! Just don't hurt them! Please!"

Joltee stays perfectly relaxed, smiling at me. "Oh, Diesel, Diesel, Diesel. They're already dead."

"You're lying."

 _This isn't real._

"Padme didn't believe me, when I looked into her pretty greenish-hazel eyes and told her that this was all your fault."

Through my sobs, I bark out a loud laugh. "My niece has blue eyes!"

"She did, it's true. But she was wearing contacts to resemble her current favorite tribute. You know, the one that almost died by your hand?"

My high spirits slowly sink again. "You're lying. This isn't real. You're _lying_!"

"You're only in denial, Diesel."

"YOU'RE LYING!" I sob. "PLEASE!" This isn't real. This can't be real, this can't be happening. He's just fucking with me. He's just bullshitting. This isn't real.

"Vienna kept asking what we were going to do with her brother."

"YOU'RE LYING!"

"Padme and Marley were so excited to go behind the scenes. Too bad that excitement didn't last."

"THIS ISN'T REAL!" I sob.

"Viridian went easy. He was confused. _Hungover_."

I lunge for him with all of my might, hoping that maybe the hum of the forcefield between us was a trick, maybe I could break it. Electricity jolts through my body as I'm thrown backwards, slamming into the wall with a groan. There's total silence before Joltee speaks again. I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Your sister never cracked. Never begged for mercy. Never, _ever_ said a single _word_ against you."

This is real.

This is so very real.

It's all my fault that they're dead.

"Santana-" I choke out.

"Miss Villanueva will not be in danger until the end of the Games. After all, as is tradition we must give our Head Gamemakers a taste of their own medicine. In your case, you caused mass slaughter, so that's what we gave you back."

"Like it wouldn't have been mass slaughter if it had happened any slower." I don't know where this intense hatred for the Games came from. Maybe it's been in me all along. Maybe it's something new. It's hard to tell.

"I hope you realize what you've done. I hope you live your last few moments knowing that it's your fault that Mary Catherine's slits were reopened as her organs poured out on the floor. That it's your fault that Viridian had to watch his lovely slender fingers be chopped off one by one when he barely had any clue what was happening. I hope you know that Padme and Marley defended you as they were burning alive, starting with that girl's ridiculous hat with the ears. I hope you know that as innocent Vienna was bent over the table being fucked in the ass till she was bleeding, she was still defending _you_."

More tears pour out of my eyes, and I can't stop them. I can't control them. I can't believe I did this.

 _This isn't real._

This is so real it hurts. As much as I try to believe it's not.

Joltee stands up, and takes a handgun out of his pocket.

"I hope you know that out of all of them, you're the only one that has the luxury of a fast death."

The buzzing of the forcefield disappears, and before I can even lunge for him, he fires a clean shot through my chest.

I collapse on the ground as everything fades away, just like that.

I have no one to apologize to.

They all died because of me.

It's too late.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Was I expecting to laser through an entire chapter in a matter of hours? No. Do I regret it? Oh, hells no! I hope you're loving these updates as much as I am. It's getting down to the wire here for sure. Though no one died in this chapter I figured it was still action-filled and an important check-up from tributes we haven't heard from in a while. From here on out, well, it's going to be interesting.**_

 _ **Also, this story's first birthday is the 21**_ _ **st**_ _ **of this month! As much as I would like to post the epilogue on its birthday, that is… Six days away. Six busy college days away. So that's pretty doubtful. But still it would be cool.**_

 _ **I'm going to put up a poll sometime probably later this week for the Victor. I'm leaving the "What Comes Next?" poll up a few more days to get any extra votes I can. Although my mind is mostly made up, it could still change so if you haven't yet voted, I'd love your input!**_

 _ **Still streaming on Sundays, hopefully I'll get the D5 chibis done soon!**_

 _ **Okay, there are SOOOO many CQs I could ask you after this shitshow. Let's see here…**_

 _ **CQ: Do you enjoy the Capitol side-plot I have going here? Do you feel like it enhances the tributes or overshadowed them? Did it add to the story in your eyes or make it unique? Was the balance good? I love Capitol characters and if you liked seeing this side-plot I'll transfer that to other SYOTs I write. But I want your feedback!**_

 _ **Also, if you sponsored someone on the seventh/eighth, they did receive those items and I took off point values that were in play BEFORE this change. If that makes sense. The gifts were sent after the hell subsided, so next chapter the tributes will have them.**_

 _ **Scores:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

 _ **A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 41**_

 _ **Apollo's Slytherpuff Daughter: 113**_

 _ **bagelswift: 2**_

 _ **Beauty. Is. Strange: 61**_

 _ **Blonde4ever: 62**_

 _ **calebbeers21: 6**_

 _ **Coolgal02: 61**_

 _ **CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 110**_

 _ **CptAwesome: 10**_

 _ **Culturalchicken: 2**_

 _ **deathless. smile: 15**_

 _ **Dreamer: 756**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 90**_

 _ **eldergrayskull: 4**_

 _ **elisa. anya: 5**_

 _ **Emrys Holmes: 98**_

 _ **epictomguy: 24**_

 _ **erica1024: 16**_

 _ **fat necrosis: 64**_

 _ **falyn. oliver: 43**_

 _ **GirlOnFire: 20**_

 _ **GryffindorOnFire: 9**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 217**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

 _ **Jalen Kun: 17**_

 _ **Jess: 582**_

 _ **johnsonmiranda70: 6**_

 _ **Josephm611: 227**_

 _ **Kate: 683**_

 _ **Xx-Katerina-xX: 56**_

 _ **Kyoko Rose: 26**_

 _ **Lady Lysa Arryn: 127**_

 _ **Legend: 584**_

 _ **Littlefoot876: 2**_

 _ **LokiThisIsMadness: 95**_

 _ **magicharity: 163**_

 _ **Master Maedhros: 10**_

 _ **MissVolturiKingsfan: 4**_

 _ **Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60**_

 _ **MicaaAmaya: 4**_

 _ **Music Rules The World: 4**_

 _ **Mystical Pine Forest: 30**_

 _ **nevergone4ever: 2**_

 _ **OncerTillTheEnd: 4**_

 _ **xxPeppermintxx109: 114**_

 _ **PrimroseEverdeenmyLittleDuck: 10**_

 _ **Programming: 7**_

 _ **xQueen-of-Applesx: 40**_

 _ **rising-balloons: 80**_

 _ **Red Roses1000: 5**_

 _ **ReignRain: 2**_

 _ **Rosemarie Benson: 12**_

 _ **Sagerose the Divergent: 10**_

 _ **santiago. poncini20: 116**_

 _ **Seahorse8: 32**_

 _ **seaotter99: 22**_

 _ **Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20**_

 _ **stop-pulling-on-mariazell: 30**_

 _ **superneet1214: 6**_

 _ **Skyflapple: 21**_

 _ **starrymidnight16: 4**_

 _ **ThisWorldWeHate: 17**_

 _ **TyeTheLurker (Guest): 50**_

 _ **the victor of panem: 61**_

 _ **We're All Okay: 71**_

 _ **W. R. Winters: 316**_

 _ **youngpatriot: 44**_

 _ **Updated prices for items!**_

 _ **Battery (for flashlight/lanterns): 20**_

 _ **Small Canteen (Empty): 30**_

 _ **Large Canteen (empty): 35**_

 _ **Blanket: 40**_

 _ **Compass: 40**_

 _ **Pillow: 40**_

 _ **Bandages: 55**_

 _ **Socks/shoes/shirts/extra articles of clothing: 55**_

 _ **Basic First-Aid Kit: 60**_

 _ **Functioning Flashlight: 60**_

 _ **Iodine (to disinfect water): 60**_

 _ **Small Canteen (with water): 75**_

 _ **Matches: 75**_

 _ **Simple foods (bags of jerky, crackers, or dried fruit): 80**_

 _ **Functioning Sleeping Bag: 85**_

 _ **Well-functioning Lantern: 100**_

 _ **Large Canteen (with water): 115**_

 _ **Night-vision goggles: 120**_

 _ **Tribute's Favorite Capitol Meal: 150**_

 _ **High-Quality Food (bread from a District, meat, broth/soup): 150**_

 _ **Knife: 160**_

 _ **Complex First-Aid Kit: 200**_

 _ **Medicine: 230**_

 _ **Tribute's weapon of choice: 300**_

 _ **Arena Map: 550**_

 _ **Reviews are always appreciated! Thanks all!**_


	39. Night 8, Day 9

_The eighth night_

* * *

-Kendal, D7M-

The Capitol anthem plays in the night, though the darkness isn't as thick as it has been in the past. I'm not sure if it's just my eyes missing the light, or if the Arena has really been slightly lighter since that disaster ended.

I wish I hadn't saved Raoul. Maybe it makes me a horrible person, but I just want to get home. There are only five of us left.

Five faces flash in the sky.

 _Iridesce._

 _Maggie._

 _Vidarr._

 _Cyra._

 _Cory._

Five less obstacles to getting back where I belong, to District 7. That means that there are only 5 of us left. One is my ally. One is my District partner.

As soon as the seal disappears, I hear the click of a speaker.

"Attention, tributes." The voice is so quiet and quivery that I almost didn't recognize it. "This announcement is to inform you that there will be a feast at high noon tomorrow exactly. There, you will find what you need to heal you."

I snort. Nothing can heal me. I may have gotten off easy, some gashes from the jabberjays, but I will never be healed. The trauma of the past week will stay with me for however long I may live. I will constantly have to fight with the fact that I have experienced death firsthand, and that will never go away. Someone like me can't. Just. _Forget_.

Even when the disasters have disappeared, they stay. The blood is caked on my arms, in my hair, legs, torso. Luckily, I was able to make it to the spicket, where I washed my face and hands. But I couldn't stay there forever. I can't even move without being forced to remember the horrors I've just seen, heard, felt, experienced. I have to wonder why?

"Attendance… will not be mandatory. However, it is highly recommended if you would like to be well-equipped." There's a pause. "I…" she stops, and lets out a heavy sigh. "Rest. Four more, and one of you will be the Victor." A small click signifies the end of the message. As soon as the message is over, I feel a light breeze, and soon the Arena is being misted gently. The rain, actually water this time, feels good, and as it picks up I'm able to get some of the blood off of me.

The Capitol seal disappears, but this time, the Arena is silent. I hope that the worst of it is over now. Then again, I haven't even confronted a tribute face-to-face yet. That will come. Someday.

I take stock of my supplies. Everything reeks, but it's all still there. I reach into my pocket, and my hands wrap around the tiny letter in my pocket.

H. For… _Home_.

No, it wasn't for home. It was for… Oh yeah. Hot damn. Back in those times when I could make a joke. Those times I could still smile. Now it only brings with it a cold, bitter feeling. I release the letter and pull my hand out of my pocket.

I sit alone and lie awake.

I'm so close. I can't die just because I was sleeping at the wrong time. Instead, I sit up and look around, running through a book about recycling's effects on the environment word by word. I try not to think about the horrors of last night, the noises, the pain. I know that was Raoul's song, that they were playing. It was different than when he sang it, creepier, but it was his song. They're _so_ clever. They're sick. Every last one of them is sick.

What could have been minutes, could have been hours later, Santana's voice comes on over the loudspeaker once again.

"I'm sure you are all wondering what has happened here." She's whispering quietly, hurriedly, and I wonder if she shouldn't be talking to us right now. "This is your Head Gamemaker speaking."

Hearing that statement surprises me. That means that…

"The actions you have experienced were not according to any plans of ours. They were a result of a fit from Diesel. He's dead. They took him and killed him."

My heart sinks. _Serves him right_. She sounds so pained.

"I was not permitted to tell you this. But I'm already going to be convicted of treason anyways. It's too late for me. My luck has run out. I wanted you to know what was happening. I didn't mean for this to happen to you all. I… I know that… Y-you probably don't believe me. I-I wouldn't. B-But honest to God, half those things I was never going to clear for them to use… I… I can't believe…" There's a pause as she takes a deep breath. "I realize I was wrong. You have been treated unfairly. I knew it all along. I hope you will forgive me when we meet again in the afterlife, wherever that is. I refuse to let them kill me. I'm taking action. Tributes, I do not know what you will experience in your last few days of the Games. There is a lot of chaos happening outside. People are outraged. _I refuse to let them kill me._ I'm going to join my brother, Diesel, and the fallen of your kind. I hope you will forgive me for being a coward." She lets out a sob.

Suddenly, I hear another voice, in the distance, yelling. "SANTANA! NO!"

She hurriedly whispers with a small sob, "May the odds be ever in your favor." A loud boom accompanied by the scream of a man's voice I don't recognize echoes, causing me to jump and whimper. The sound cuts out quite suddenly.

We're left in silence. All I can hear is the sound of my heart beating. I try not to think about what just happened, not to dwell on what was said or what I heard, but in the silence the only thing I can do is think. It's horrible.

I close my eyes, trying to sleep, but nothing comes. Finally, I sit up, taking my spool of rope and cutting off a piece. Putting my hands to work tying knots is good for me. I quietly recite chapter 8 of my book, focusing on my handiwork and the words I can see in front of my eyes. I try not to think about what's happening on the outside if I can avoid it. I can't afford to think about the pain I will face when I get back, the pain I'm facing now. I have to tough it out. What would my family do without me? What about Agata?

I take a deep breath.

I can't be healed.

I refuse to risk my life in some useless attempt to believe that I can be.

I'm not going to the feast.

~.~.

* * *

 _The ninth day_

* * *

-Martina, D11F-

As soon as the sky lightens, another announcement comes on the loudspeaker.

"Attention, tributes."

I blink, not recognizing the voice. I may have heard it once or twice, I guess I vaguely remember the sound, but I have no idea who is addressing us.

"This is your President speaking."

"Wh-What!? You're not President Snow!"

"You're all very correct. It is not Coriolanus Snow speaking to you. Unfortunately, while you have been in the Arena, much has happened on the outside. Although, from the looks of it, you have all heard _far too much."_

Suddenly, I start to wonder what's happening outside. If Snow's dead… Could that really mean a rebellion is brewing? Was he assassinated?! Last we heard back home, he had made a full recovery. What am I missing? Where is my family? Are they alright?! Questions keep forming in my head and I can't stop them.

The man on the loudspeaker continues. "This is your newly elected President, Joltee Rutilus. Unfortunately, as absolute _madness_ has swept our Complex, the end of the Games will be largely in your own hands. Tributes, you want to go back to your families and friends. They are missing you all so very dearly. You are the ones that will make it happen. The feast will continue as it has been scheduled at high noon. The other Gamemakers will work as a team to keep everything under control. But, well, I'm going to be frank with you my dears, if that is quite alright. We have nothing else left to throw at you. Nothing left to nudge you on the way. You all must become predators until only one remains. A stalemate may bring about some consequences for your loved ones, dear tributes, so please do continue to hunt. Only _one_ will come out our Victor. And whoever it is must be ready and able to never speak of the events in this Games again, except under very heavy supervision. Please bear this in mind."

I swallow hard. I can handle whatever this new Capitol servant throws at me. I can handle anything, so long as I'm back with my family and Jackson in 11.

"I do look forward to working together with whichever of you is lucky enough to be a Victor. Good luck, dear tributes. And may the odds be ever in your favor." The message ends with a click, leaving us once again in silence. My heart is still beating hard from the thought of the feast being cancelled.

I need to get to that feast.

I _need_ medicine.

Astogenevick doesn't stop at the skin. It can destroy nerves. It can render entire parts of the body useless. Dammit, if only I'd figured it out earlier. The poison has spread to underneath my fingernails, my fingertips. They're numb. I ball my fist, where I'd put my spiked knuckles on to stay just in case.

My legs are barely functional. Every step burns. With each step I feel as if I will not be able to walk another one. I spent a good deal of last night and all of this morning surprising myself.

I arrive back to the Cornucopia and discover that the tables are already there.

 _Dammit_. So much for being able to take a bag and run.

The feast appears to be at its beginning, though, because out of nowhere Raoul dashes out and heads for the tables. I move as fast as my legs will take me to the table, where I see a bag with a glowing pink 11 on it sitting with other bags.

Raoul looks around, and starts taking each of the bags in his hands.

Oh, he's damned if he thinks he's going to get away with taking one of my bags! I pull my spiked knuckles back and punch him straight in the jaw.

He lets go of all of the bags, though I notice he's armed. Legs shaking, I use my last energy to get a bit of a start and tackling him to the ground. He lets out a surprised groan and I pull back my knuckles and punch again, causing him to cry out and fight back.

Usually I would hold on unwaveringly, but the weakness in my legs and arms causes me to lose my balance more easily. He frees an arm and stabs at me, just barely missing my chest in favor of my sternum, causing intense pain that makes me cry out.

"You missed," I spit out at him through clenched teeth as blood drips out of the wound. I throw another punch, cracking his nose and causing him to scream loudly.

"I just-" he gasps- "Have to get home…"

"So do I! So do all of us! That's not going to happen. I've made it this far, I've been dragged through hell, and I'll be damned if I die now. I have a boyfriend and a family bigger than you'd ever know that need me back with them! What the fuck do you even have?"

He pauses, and in that time I bring my fist down into his throat, pushing down until he's choking and coughing and spluttering.

I bring my fists down on his face again, and he cries out as the spikes hit his eyes, screaming and squirming underneath me. How dare he have the audacity to say that his return home is more important than mine! He has no idea anything about me! Nobody does.

I start to feel dizzy from the blood pouring out of my wound. I'll be damned If I die here. I refuse to lose this fight.

Raoul almost knocks me over, and in the moment I take to regain my balance, tries for another stab, this time missing and hitting the shoulder. He can't do anything, he can't even see anymore.

He's already lost this fight. He has to know that by now. He has to know that he can't get home.

I pull back my knuckles for another punch as he gasps out and writhes underneath me, trying to get free. He lets out cries of agony as blood pours out of his wounds. Even so, he doesn't stop moving. Never stops trying to break free.

I take a second to gasp for air, the light-headedness of losing blood really kicking in. I know I have to end this before I lose anything else.

Spots start to form in front of my eyes, and before I know it I feel a sharp pain lodge itself through chest, just above the heart, crying out as breathing becomes a nearly impossible task.

Body shaking, I pull out my sword from the belt around my waist and plunge it through Raoul's heart, before my body gives out and I collapse beside him, gasping for air.

Tears form in my eyes, and slowly run down my face.

I couldn't have controlled this fate, I suppose. I shouldn't spend too much time thinking about it now. I reach into my pocket, wrapping my hands around the dried cherry blossom Jackson gave to me after the reaping. I can't feel it with my fingertips, but when I squeeze it I feel it lightly against my palm.

It was only a matter of time.

I know that they can make it without me. They all have one of the strongest support systems in the entire nation.

Still, though. I didn't make it. I failed. I'm going to die here. Far too early. I didn't even get to say goodbye. I try to gasp out something, some kind of apology or words that I can say to them, but I can't make myself speak.

I close my eyes. In the end, I'm at peace. I fought until the very end. My District, my family, Jackson, they can still be proud of me. I never gave up on the hope of making it back to them. And, I guess, when it's all said and done, that's what I really wanted. Nobody will _ever_ say that Martina Reyés was a quitter. No. Martina Reyés fought with everything in her.

I take a final breath as my vision flashes with light. Light at the end of the tunnel.

A feeling of peace washes over my entire body.

They'll be alright.

I close my eyes, exhale, and let go.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: So guess who ended up with no homework and is being pumped with both inspiration AND motivation to finish this up? This bitch. THESE DEATHS ARE STARTING TO KILL ME I'M GETTING SO EMOTIONAL WE'RE DOWN TO THREE HOW AM I GOING TO PICK JUST ONE!?**_

 _ **That being said, I think I'm changing out polls and making the Victor poll now. If I end up with time (doubtful, but plausible) these next few days I could realistically post the epilogue on the 21**_ _ **st**_ _ **. Hope you guys don't mind the fast updates. I just hate being in suspense, haha. Still have no idea who's going to win, so your vote is really important to me. (Muuuch more important than the story poll, because as soon as I got the idea for Danzón I was like "HELLS YEAH FAVE SONG AND COOL QUELL IDEA but this one I'm actually extremely torn.)**_

 _ **Peppermint, thank you so much for Martina, and Joseph, thanks a bunch for Raoul! Glad I could fit both of their preferred deaths into one. As soon as I post the chapter I'll put up their obituaries on my profile.**_

 _ **Thank you so much to everyone who has already lost their tribute but is still reviewing anyways. That's really appreciated and I'm glad you're enjoying the story even though your tribute didn't win.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Thoughts on the final 3? Are you satisfied with who it turned out to be? Was it who you were expecting, or were there surprises?**_

 _ **Stream Sunday night if I don't post again by then! Check the blog for chibi/map/afterlife!AU updates!**_

 _ **Reviews are so very appreciated, thanks a bunch for all of your lovely support! Hope you're enjoying it!  
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	40. Day 10, Night 10

_The tenth day_

* * *

-Kendal, D7M-

There are three.

How did this happen so fast?! And yet, it feels as if it's been years since I've seen the sun. It's amazing how it works like that.

I sit by myself and tie knots. Over and over again. Tying and untying. Staying on guard. Knife at the ready. Trying to tell myself that I can do it.

What if I don't?

What if I die? What if this is the end? I'm in the final 3, but that doesn't mean Victory yet. Someone has to get third. And someone has to get second. Only one will survive.

I saw my ally's face in the sky last night. I don't know how Raoul died, but I don't want to know. I know that it's for the better, because I don't know if I would have had it in me to kill someone I spent so much time with, but… It's still unsettling. Images of these last few days are still playing around on a loop in my head, as much as I try to get them to go away. The visions of Cyra's disfigured, burnt body stumbling after me. The gunshots, the birds, the dancing silhouette of Serafina Anya, and, worst of all, Callum's shrieks. The initial panic I felt when I first heard what I thought was Agata's voice. I thank the stars that I was able to discern the sound of the jabberjays and the impersonator before I totally lost my marbles. Otherwise I'd probably not be here right now.

I tie knots, trying to calm myself down. Usually I would have the assurance of the Capitol's wishes for equal fights that would help me sleep, but now it's a total free-for-all. I have no idea what's going on out there, but you'll find that I'm quite a curious person, and will do through a lot of trouble to learn. It's one of my proudest qualities.

Then again, if I want to know, if I want to hug my Aunt Linette again or talk to Agata, if I want to play games and make jokes about finding Aunt Linette a partner even though she doesn't need one, if I want to see my parents again, I might have to take lives.

 _Breathe_ , I think, as my heartrate begins to speed up. _Maybe they'll take each other out or something…_ It's… Plausible. They're both strong, determined tributes. If they find each other first, I'll luck out. Fate's been kind to me lately. It's possible.

It's also possible that my luck could run out.

Either way, I'm glad I didn't go to the feast. There wouldn't have been any kind of miracle elixir there for me.

I sit by myself, focused on knots. Tying knots. Staying alert. Keeping my guard up.

Just when I think I can't get any more nervous, I hear a noise. I look up and see a parachute coming down from the sky, in my direction.

My eyes widen. _This can't be_.

But it is.

Luck's really helping me out today.

I quickly get to my feet to retrieve the present. When I open the container, I find a basic first aid kit and… A note. Quickly, I open it and read.

 _You've inspired more people than you know. You make people smile. Don't give up your light._

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, reflecting on the words.

 _Me? Inspiring people? How?_

Sure, Victors have been inspiring in the past. Some that didn't seem like they would have been but have made a big impact on history. Gio Piccozzi, for one example. I read a whole book about the 36th Victor once. It was Capitol-biased, as are all of the Victor biographies in the library, but it was still an interesting read. How a homeless, pansexual boy from District 3 suffering with OCD was able to reach out to so many people. Or, even going back before then, Ottile Nevin, 34th Victor. She wasn't really an underdog, but her fighting spirit inspired the masses. Even people recently, like Pit, who never shuts up about matters that are important to her.

I guess that's what a Victor should be. Using the title, the fame, to make a difference. Somehow. Unlike Adler and Heather, who just sit around lazily, get drunk off their asses, and intentionally dehumanize and disrespect people for fun, like it's some kind of hobby.

I try to get off of that thought before I get too pissed. After all, Cobra's been doing really well for me, and I have full faith in them. Somehow, we got this far.

 _Don't give up on your light._

I don't feel like I have any light. The darkness has eaten it all up, absorbed it, drained it out of me until I became nothing but a hollow shell of a person with nothing left to shine. I never thought it could happen, but here I am.

Somehow this person, whoever they are, thinks that I could be able to give something. Offer _something_. Impact _something_. If they see that in me, then I owe it to them to keep going.

I open the kit and get to work rinsing out my wounds, wincing a bit as they sting. Once I'm done, I decide to keep moving, hoping that something will work out and I'll avoid the other two. I hold tightly to my knife just in case, though. I have no idea where the others are. If they both came to the feast, they're close.

I keep walking until I see something I recognize.

Food carts. Loaded. Looks like they've barely been touched. I quickly open my backpack and stock up on food. I need food, I need energy, if I want to have any hope of surviving these last few battles. Just beyond the food supplies, I see another spicket. I fill up my canteen quickly, drinking as much as I can manage in one sitting. I'll need to be well-hydrated, too. This is an advantage the others may not have. Then again, I have no idea where they are. Maybe they do.

I leave the food carts and the spicket, going back to a place behind the rubble that will better conceal me. There, I sit and wait. I don't want to hunt yet. I just want to wait and see if the other two find each other.

The day drifts by, and no cannons shoot off. I stay in place, hoping that maybe both of them are just dying slowly.

Surely a cannon will shoot soon…

Surely someone will die soon…

The Capitol anthem begins.

No faces appear in the sky.

* * *

 _The tenth night_

* * *

-Riella, D7F-

I sit alone and munch on beef jerky I got from a sponsor. It's fresher than the stuff in my backpack. The difference is barely noticeable, but there is a difference. Even if it is only in my head.

 _You're almost there, don't give up, she's waiting for you._

I'm so close to home. I can practically taste it. I can practically taste the victory booze. Andy. I miss her more and more each second that ticks away in this hell. When I say hell, I really, really mean it. When I thought things couldn't get any worse, they started tormenting me with her screams. Her and Maggie's, together.

Oh, Maggie… Her poor girlfriend must be beside herself. I want to get back for Maggie's sake, too. Sure, the other Careers were alright. Iridesce and I always held some tension, but Callum wasn't so bad, just quiet. But Maggie and I… We were friends. We had a relationship that was much closer than I ever meant to make in the Games. And losing her only reminds me why I have no other choice but to win.

I have to avenge her. Somehow. I don't know how. After all, from how it sounds, Maggie's killers are both dead already before I had the chance to ruin anything about them.

Although, I guess I already outsmarted them by not dying in their little _obstacle course_. They both got what they deserved, from the sounds of it. At least that job's already done.

I want to be the Victor that defied them. I want to be that girl who lived, against all the odds, in the year they didn't want a Victor. I can be that person. I have the drive to win.

I'm all Andy has left. And as much as she pretended to be okay before I left, I wasn't fooled. I know more about Andy than anyone, and sometimes that includes the girl herself. I know how she bottles up her emotions. I know how she drowns her sorrows in a vat of lung cancer and liver disease. I know that without me there to stop her, she'll self-destruct. I know she's hiding, hiding from everyone, lashing out at those who are just trying to help. I'm the only thing that can save her.

I know she wishes she would've volunteered for me.

If I were in her shoes, I'd be beside myself. After days and days, so many days I've lost count, of watching her in an Arena and knowing that with two words I could have stopped her from experiencing all of this pain… I don't know what I would have done. I can't leave her on her own, dammit, I can't.

The Capitol seal appears, the anthem plays, and no faces appear in the sky.

As soon as the song is over, the speaker comes on again.

 _Great. Major Asswad here for another round._

"Attention tributes." It's Saxon again. It appears as if they're trying to make these last few days as normal as possible. After everything that's happened, I don't blame them. However, even Saxon's voice is tiny and timid, nothing like the loud booming burst of personality she usually has on television. It seems as if everyone's been pushed to their breaking points. If only I could be there, sitting there safe and sound. If anyone has the right to quiver, it's _us_.

Whoever comes out of this shit pit alive has the task of fighting the hell _back_. Winning revenge for what happened to us. Speaking out. Making them all sorry. Getting revenge. Justice for all 23 of the others that suffered, but especially the final 10. We did nothing to deserve what we've been through. I want to be that person. I want to fight back. I want to win justice. I want to be that person. I won't let them push us around any _fucking_ longer.

"I speak to you all with direct orders straight from the President. Each of you is currently receiving a map of the Arena. On it you will find the locations of your fellow tributes, for convenience's sake. As President Rutilus said, we would like a hasty end to these Games. These will help you to finish in a matter of a day or two."

The parachutes come down and I reach up to collect mine, taking it out of the container.

"To make it start, press and hold the big button at the bottom."

I do as she says, and when I do, a hologram of the Arena appears. On it, I see two dots, though it doesn't say which is Kendal and which is Kade.

"The President is less than satisfied at the lack of action today, and therefore, he has started to follow through on his promise to threaten your loved ones. If another kill is not made by sunrise, Miss Sophia Cole will find herself in some danger."

I'll have to go to the nearest tribute. Even though it's not Andy's life on the line, I don't want any of us to suffer like this any longer. And, frankly, I don't want to wait until it is Andy they're announcing. This girl obviously means something to someone, I think Kade if I remember right. And I'll fight for her. I'm not running away anymore.

"Time is running out. We're… Trying to give you as much time as we can, but…" She gasps a bit, as if something on the other side is threatening to kill her on the spot. "Finish this. May the odds be ever in your favor."

The announcement ends with a click.

I collect my stuff, hefting the axe over my shoulder. The dot that's closest to me starts to move, and I decide to meet him, whoever it is, halfway. I agree, I just want this nightmare to be over. I'm going to have to end it myself.

.

-Kade, D9M-

Sophia is in danger.

I have no idea if they showed this on TV or not (the crooks, it wouldn't surprise me if they censored it), but all I know is that I have to fight, kill, win, before they can so much as lay a finger on her.

I don't know where these protective feelings are coming from. They're a different kind of feelings then I've had for Rachel. They're different than feelings I've had for anyone else I've ever known. I live to see her smile, I want to please her. I want to take her sadness and walk with it, I want her to laugh, I want her attention. I get jealous when she's flipping her hair at guys for spare change. Something about it is just… Unsettling.

I think I might be in love with her.

I know, I know, horrible timing. And it's especially horrible timing to be confused.

It was something I realized as soon as Saxon announced that she's in danger. Sure, we were never really safe, living out on the streets like that. We've both had far too many close calls to count. But… I always knew that Sophia was capable of tackling the threats of the streets. She had been since she was a little girl, after all. She has a reputation as a top dog, and nobody really messes with her.

This is totally different.

It would be so easy for the Capitolites to kill her. They'd do it without batting an eyelash. Even with all the fight in her, Sophia would fall short against them. They have power unlike any of us ever imagined. After all, they caused me to break down in a matter of days. Even after losing my entire family, I didn't experience that level of pain and fear and misery like I did in those few days. It was so overwhelming, every horrible event of my life simmering into one horrible concoction of all the nightmares I could think of: and some that I couldn't have even imagined until I was experiencing them.

I know I've often thought, or often said, that Sophia was in danger, but looking back she was never in true danger. She always had a way out. There was some kind of string she could pull to get out. And I was there to save her if her Plans A, B, C, and D failed.

Now, though, no amount of plans would save her. I realize that I can't lose her. I can't stall any longer. Today was a much-needed day of regrouping, and now I plan to strike the other two down and take home the title, the house in the Victor's Village, and Sophia.

I love her. I don't know how much. Maybe I just have very strong platonic feelings. After all, I've never had many friends. Maybe I'm getting it confused. But, on the other hand, the feelings for Sophia and the feelings for Rachel are different. I had very strong platonic feelings for Rachel. Sophia, it's different. It's so much deeper than that, so much more. I never want to leave her side. I never want to lose her. I want us to be together forever. _Oh God, what if it is more than just friends?!_ I can't think about it now. First, I have to get back home. Then we'll figure it out.

As soon as the announcement is over, I start on my way towards the closest tribute. Soon, I break out into a run, though each step causes my body to scream with exhaustion and pain. I have to get there before tomorrow. I have to finish off one of the 7 tributes.

I don't know which it's going to be, but keep moving. I can find out when I get there. The other dot soon starts moving, and I know that whichever it is, they're going to be ready to fight me right back. I can't help but feel relieved when I see a silhouette in the distance.

It's Riella. Definitely the more challenging of the Seven tributes, but it's either fight her now or later. I'm ready to take her on.

"I need to fight for Sophia."

Riella nods understandingly. She appears a person that has been cracked and patched with duct tape. That's exactly how I feel.

I look into her eyes, and in that second we have a moment of understanding. We've both been through too much. We're both desperate to get home. We're both broken beyond repair, hollow shells. We're both haggard and weary. We're both ready to win or go out swinging. We're both ready for quick, clean fights. Only one of us can live.

She charges, and I'm ready for her. I hold the sword I won from a sponsor, feeling much more confident with the weapon than I would have with the spear. In a fight as close as this, I need my best weapon.

Riella comes closer but I pick up my foot to kick her away, bringing out my sword and charging. I just want to kill her quickly. We've all been through _enough_.

Both of us grunt and groan as the momentum of the fight shifts back and forth. One second I'm in control, forcing her backwards and stabbing with my sword as she hits my strikes away, the next she's in control and I'm on defense.

I know that I'm not going to be able to land a direct hit quick kill. I know that I'm going to have to aim for non-lethal spots and try to subdue her by wearing her down. That's what I do, and once I get in a stab on her shoulder, the whole atmosphere of the battle changes. She knows full well that we can't continue trying to make it quick. She strikes back, driving her axe down my shoulder, returning the favor. The pain explodes, but I know I can't break. I have to make it home. I kick her away from me and swiftly close in, changing to a slashing motion and landing in some hits on her chest and arms. I just need to hit enough to make her bleed and falter for just a second. My arm screams, but I don't stop. I get in another clean stab on the other shoulder, and she lets out a small scream. I know it's going to take more than that to get her to give up, though.

She pulls up the axe again, and in that second I stab forward, hitting her in the abdomen. She screams as she brings her axe down on my shoulder again with all her might. The force of the action knocks me down to the ground, but I'm not ready to give up yet. It doesn't look like I hit any vital organs in the stab, as she's still moving, ready to bring the axe on me again. Swiftly, I move my feet on the ground to knock her feet out from under her.

I try to get back up, but it appears as if she's rendered my non-dominant hand useless, which is making it a challenge to balance enough to get my footing.

She's the first to get to her feet, and just as I'm getting up, she grabs her axe and quickly dashes back over to me.

The next few seconds happen in slow motion. Her bringing the axe up and swinging it back down at me. The ripping, roaring pain on my stomach as the force knocks me to the ground and knocks the wind out of me.

A last-minute frenzy of trying to apologize to Sophia, trying to put into words how I felt about her.

"Sorry," I choke out, as white starts to cloud my vision.

I hear voices, ever so distantly, but this time they don't have evil intentions.

No… They sound… Joyful.

"Kade!" I hear my sisters' giggles. I hear Rachel's laughter. I see them, beckoning. I hear my mother's gentle voice inviting me back into her arms. Through the pain, through the tears, I smile.

In the darkness, I've found my light.

In the sadness, I've found joy.

District 7 is going to have a Victor this year.

And that's okay. I can finally be at peace with my family, where I belong. Sophia will make do. She always finds a way.

I'm smiling as I release my last shaking breath.

I close my eyes.

Rachel takes my hands and takes me away from the nightmares.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Have you ever seen a determined duck at work? Because now you are experiencing it firsthand. I have three (or four, I'm not sure yet) more chapters and four more days to do them all. And I'm really going to aim for that. Which means that by tomorrow or Saturday I need to have a Victor chosen. Sorry if this feels like it's rushed because the updates are every day. Hopefully they're meaty enough that it doesn't feel like I'm just throwing this story away at the end. I want this to be a really impactful ending- the reason I'm updating fast isn't because I want it to be over, it's because I'm so excited with each coming chapter at the action and the emotions.**_

 _ **Alright, well, since next chapter I'll be asking about the Victor and the epilogue will probably be something sentimental, I'll ask this now: would you submit to me again? If not, why? What do you think I could do differently to make it even better next time around? What aspects of this did you like/ thought were unique? Any big qualms or grudges?**_

 _ **Keep checking up on the blog and for updates! If you haven't voted on the poll yet, there's still time (although obviously a vote for Kade won't do much good anymore, unfortunately).**_

 _ **Thanks so much for Kade, Hope. I hope you liked what I did with him.**_

 _ **This is your last chance to sponsor before the finale! Next chapter, we will have a Victor!**_

 _ **Scores:**_

 _ **AbbyCorabby123: 10**_

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 _ **deathless. smile: 15**_

 _ **Dreamer: 775**_

 _ **dreams and desperation: 95**_

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 _ **erica1024 (I'm assuming you're the same person who reviewed as a guest named Erica, but let me know if you're not!): 16**_

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 _ **FanOfMaggie: 5**_

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 _ **GryffindorOnFire: 9**_

 _ **hopefuldreamer1991: 232**_

 _ **Ibbonray: 35**_

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 _ **the victor of panem: 61**_

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 _ **W. R. Winters: 316**_

 _ **youngpatriot: 44**_


	41. Day 11

_**A/N: This was SUCH a hard decision for me. More about that below. Without further ado, though, your finale!**_

* * *

 _The eleventh day_

* * *

-Kendal, D7M-

I wake up from sleeping.

After Kade died, Riella's dot hadn't moved at all, and from there I figured that she was sleeping. I decided to risk it.

I'm tired of this. I'm tired of being here. I want to be back home where I belong. Maybe I thought at one point that I didn't have a chance, but I do. I _do_ have a chance. I can get back home. And, at this point, I would do anything to get there. I have so much to prove. I have so many people that need to be inspired. I have too much to lose. And, dang it, I'm not going to lose it all now, not after everything I've been through. Only one more person is in my way.

 _I'm. Not. Running. Any. More._

I'm ready for her when she's ready for me.

I want to be back home with my parents and Aunt. I want to be with Agata. I want to make a legacy.

I want Panem to sit there and watch this little brown, pansexual demiboy from District 7 do something as catastrophic as winning the Hunger Games. I want Adler Shelton to have a heart attack at the thought that this kid who nobody thought had a chance is going to live across the _street_ from him. I want him to dread it. I want him to watch Cobra be successful and get the heck away from the District that has abused them for so _damn_ long. I want to be brave in front of the nation and tell all the kids out there who don't fit on the gender binary that they're. _Not._ Alone.

I'm so tired of feeling alone. I'm so tired of feeling like a second-class citizen. I'm tired of being abused and dehumanized and just _sitting_ there and just having to take it with a smile on. I'm tired of being quiet. I'm tired of people that make _us_ the bad guys when we're only asking for some basic decency.

Nuh uh.

No longer.

I will do _anything_ to get back home. And when I get there, I'm going to change things. You just watch me.

"I'm getting out of here," I say as I pull the map up to see where Riella is. "You're gonna be sorry, Shelton. You're going to be so sorry."

I'm going to kick Riella's ass.

"I'm going to win for people that have never had a voice. For people that have been told all their _lives_ that they have no chance. We _do_ have a chance. We're _not_ wrong. We have as much of a chance as everyone else."

I'm ready to be back in District 7, where the breeze smells like pine and the autumn brings piles of leaves to jump in. Where the library is pitiful, small, and all the books smell like rotten eggs. Where the pages were yellow even though they had once been white.

 _Pansexuality_ _, or_ _omnisexuality_ _, is the sexual attraction, romantic love, or emotional attraction toward people regardless of their sex or gender identity._ I think about the pages of those book, in which I'd been immersed the morning of my reaping, preparing to tell my parents and aunt. _A_ _demiboy_ _, also called demiguy, is someone whose gender identity is only partly male, regardless of their assigned gender at birth._ I take a deep breath visualize the pages with the flags on them.

 _We're not alone._

It's about time that I prove that to the entire nation.

The thought of seeing Agata's perpetual bitch face again makes me laugh and cry from desperation. The thought of hugging my parents and telling them I love them and never letting go. The thought of moving into a real house, a home, with my Aunt and taking a workload off of her shoulders. The thought of reaching out to a people that have so rarely been reached out to. The thought that I can stand up on a pedestal and say whatever I want to people that need to hear my words. They want something to divert attention from the disasters of the Gamemakers. I can help with that. I don't want to scare anyone, I want to inspire them. I want to help out those in need.

The thought that I can keep on spreading light, just like my sponsor note said.

And, though it's not very likely of actually becoming reality, the thought of seeking out that guy from District 1 is still there, too. As silly as it sounds. Yeah, yeah, it's unreasonable, but I have to incubate what little imagination I have left.

I want to see the world. I want to learn about everything and use this to make changes for the better. I don't want to hunt down the Capitol like I'm sure Riella does. I didn't spend too much time with her but I know the kind of person she is. If she goes after this crazy new guy that's been saying he's the President, she's going to be in trouble.

The outside. What's happening out there? I have no idea what I'm even getting back to. From the sound of it things are pretty messed up. It's going to take someone that knows how to solve problems one step at a time, no matter how tedious. I want to make peace, first and foremost. These are things I don't think Riella has in her. These are impacts only I can make.

I want to win and prove to Adler Shelton that there's strength in teamwork. I want to prove that brains can get you places. That pansexual and confused are not even _close_ to synonyms. That nonbinary _doesn't_ mean unloved, or alone, or abnormal. That brown skin is _not_ a crime.

I double check all of my supplies, making sure they're organized. I don't want to kill Riella while she's sleeping, so I decide to let her start moving first.

I know that the Games have to end today, soon, and can only hope that everything works out how I want it to.

Riella's dot starts moving and I prepare my supplies to meet her face-to-face for the first time since she and the Careers killed one of my own.

~.~.

-Riella, D7F-

I'm so close.

I'm so close to Andy.

After the battle with Kade, I decided to lay down and get some sleep. The stab wound he made in my stomach luckily didn't hit anything vital, so I wake up the next morning in pain but ready to fight.

I rub my eyes and wince as I sit up. The pain may be intense, but more intense is my drive to get home. I see a sponsor parachute coming down just then and reach over to grab it. Inside is a roll of bandages. I sigh and take them out, wrapping them around the wound. They're quickly bloodstained, but it's better than nothing. Inside is another note.

"Good luck, be brave, remember what's waiting for you at home."

I swallow hard.

I'm not going to pretend that killing my District partner is going to be easy. I know it's not going to be. It's going to be really hard. I would hope that it'll be really hard for him to kill me.

This is someone who shares your home. Someone whose allegiance lies where yours does. Someone whose family I will always have a risk, however small, of running into when I'm at home. It's not going to be easy. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to do it.

For Andy. For Maggie. I'm going to succeed.

As soon as I finish eating a breakfast of jerky, I force myself up on my feet and start to the other dot on the map. Kendal's barely moved since I came here, but I don't care if I have to chase the kid _down_. I will do anything to end this before they put one of his loved ones' lives on the line, or even worse, Andy's. I keep walking, having to stop every few minutes because of my stomach. That's the other reason I need to end this quickly. Get this treated before losing blood makes me weary. I should probably be resting to let it set, but I can't stop now.

I've been through too much pain and fear to die. I've watched so many people die. I've been tormented by so many ghosts. I've been drug through the fucking wringer and if you think I'm going to be Miss Happy Smiley Victor when I get home you're mistaken. I'm going to make sure that those in charge know what happened to not just me, but all of us here. It isn't fair, us being left here with no answers as to why this is happening to us.

I keep going, drinking from a canteen to keep my energy up and to try and keep from being light-headed. It's so hard to stay focused.

I had no doubt I had it in here to make it this far. After all, that's why I was so ready to volunteer for Andy if she had been the one that was picked. I knew that I could do this. I knew I could make it to this point if I just stayed smart and strategic. I never meant to make friends, but I did. It's human nature. My allies were killed one by one. Callum by his own District partner, who thought he would slow us down too much. Maggie by torture and fate and hell. Iridesce by… Probably the same thing.

Andy and I are going to live in the Victor's Village together and nobody will bother us there. We'll be able to live well and I'll be able to buy her a ring. We'll never be apart and we'll never have to as much as see my parents' faces again. Every morning I'll wake up to her face. We'll eat breakfast together. She'll hold me close as we watch some pointless TV program. I'll make her lunch. We'll go on a walk outside in the woods and look at the trees. We'll have an evening smoke. Maybe sometimes we'll shower together if we just can't wait. We'll spend our nights together just like before. I'll fall asleep in her arms.

Sure, I'm not going to be who I was. But it's not going to matter because Andy loves me well and I would do anything for her. Maybe it'll be hard. But if anyone could handle that, it'd be me. Kendal is too sweet, he wouldn't be able to take it. He'd feel too guilty. He wouldn't use the power he had. He wouldn't seek justice for those that were lost, he'd be too timid and afraid. He would let them make excuses for what they did to us. I can't let them get away with what they did. Never again will tributes have to go through what we did. I will ensure that. I will win justice for everyone that lost their lives.

I keep my eyes on the map and keep walking. The Arena is so desolate and quiet now. Not that it wasn't desolate and quiet before. But now it's just sad. It's not even tasteful. The roller coaster I'm walking towards is a heap of nothing. I realize with a start that they may not have retrieved Maggie's body from within the rubble yet. I don't want to find out if they did or not. It wouldn't surprise me if she was still there. These Gamemakers have been notoriously awful at doing their jobs.

I keep walking, eyes focused on the maps as I get closer and closer to the other dot. Maybe he's still sleeping. Maybe he's trying to hide. No, he's smart enough to know that hiding won't do him any good when I can see where he is on the map. He knows he's going to have to fight me sometime. He's probably just preparing himself.

I keep walking. I have to make it home. I approach the dot and start to look for Kendal's silhouette in the distance. This is it. All I have to do to win is

My feet are whipped out from under me and I cry out as the wound on my stomach is stretched.

The world is upside down.

Dammit, Riella! One stupid mistake and you're _here_! I immediately start to look for a way out of it. How could I have been so stupid!? I was so focused on killing Kendal that I completely forgot his most powerful weapon. The same thing he used to kill Callum. And I walked straight into his trap like a fucking idiot! Andy had to watch and yell at her TV and I couldn't hear her and now I'm here. Dammit, I underestimated him!

"This trap was brought to you by the letter H." That's the first trace I've heard or seen of him since we met earlier with the other Careers. Any other year, this bullshit would have been taken care of. It would have had to be an epic fight. Now, I'll be lucky if I even touch him before he finishes me off.

"This isn't fair!" I shout at him, trying to break free. "You fucking _coward_! Too afraid to face me head-on so instead you take the coward's way out! You're nothing but a scared little boy!"

"To face you head-on would have been a death wish, sweetheart," he says. He sounds different than he was when we talked on the train. I struggle to reach my axe, knowing that if I can just reach it I can get free, somehow, some way…

His eyes meet mine in my struggle. "We've all suffered too much. But I have too much to get back to."

This can't be the end! It can't! Not of me! I keep struggling.

"You _COWARD_!"

"It's called using what you've got. Like you would've used that axe to cut me to pieces."

"Please Kendal!" I resort to begging. "Make this a fair fight! Please! Please don't kill me by playing dirty! Please!" I squeeze my eyes shut as my stomach screams out in pain. "PLEASE!"

His next words are dark and heavy. "I promise I'll look out for Andy."

I know what's coming. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself and gasping out, "I'msosorryAndyIloveyoupleasestaystrong-"

Kendal's knife digs into my chest, causing me to scream out in pain.

The world becomes a burst white and I leave the one who needed me the most to face the horrors of the world all by herself.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Okay, so… You're going to look at the results of the poll and see that Riella outscored everyone by a bit of a landslide. And I'm sure that people may be pissed off at me because she was definitely the crowd favorite. But, as the author, I refused to choose a Victor that didn't feel… Right. Trust me, I've rewritten entire scenes before because they didn't feel right. Another thing, this wasn't anything personal at all. I promise. It's fully about the characters, not the submitters. Think what you want about that, but I will sleep well at night with my decision. If you're mad, then just don't submit to Danz**_ _ **ó**_ _ **n and get on searching for other SYOTs, there are plenty of them. I chose the Victor based on who I could connect to the song, who would tie up the most plotlines, and really just who felt right to me. After all, I'm the one that's going to continue writing with him. Plus, an added bonus was giving someone their first Victor! :D**_

 _ **That being said, I hope you enjoyed the finale! And Cloe, thank you soooo much for Riella. Man, it really was such a hard decision between this two, I can't even express to you how hard it was. I was back and forth for weeks, maybe even months. But, as I said, I'm at peace with my choice, and I hope you are as well. But, you should be incredibly proud of Riella, and we'll definitely hear from Andy again soon.**_

 _ **So, that's it. We have our Victor. And tomorrow I'll post the District epilogues, and then I'll post the final epilogue and… That'll be it. Wow, I can't believe it.**_

 _ **So, thank you so much to everyone who submitted tributes to me. I'm so sorry that all 24 couldn't have won, but I hope that you are satisfied with the outcome. Thank you all so much for your characters and for your support and reviews on this crazy journey of a year in which we've all grown so much. Okay, I'll stop being sappy now, I'll save it for Monday XD**_

 _ **Stream tomorrow! I may write epilogues or Afterlife!AU, or just draw. Still not sure. But I'd love to see you there!**_

 _ **Chapter Question: Thoughts on the Victor? Which District epilogue(s) are you most excited to see?**_

 _ **I won't be posting scores here anymore but I'm still keeping track.**_

 _ **Once again, reviews are always appreciated.**_

 _ **With everything in me I thank you all for your support and kindness. And, of course, thanks Jess for Kendal. Can't wait to write more with our 84**_ _ **th**_ _ **Victor!**_


	42. District Epilogues I

District 1

* * *

-Diamante Sawyer, 17- Friend of Iridesce-

As soon as she burned I went to the Training Center.

I knew that Luscious wouldn't be any help right now. I know that nobody will be a help. How am I supposed to keep going!? How are we ever supposed to laugh and joke around again without Iridesce!? Things will never be the same again.

I have to win vengeance for her. My best friend, and she's been swept away by total and utter bullshit! How is anyone supposed to sit still?! She was the obvious choice for Victor, she was trained and strategic, and she stuck by her decisions no matter what.

I'm the only one that would think to come to the Training Center this late at night while the Games were going.

Well… Not the only one.

Gravity's here, too. I don't think I've ever been at the Center and not seen him there. I ignore him, though. I have my own mourning to do. This isn't fair! I strike a dummy with my sword as hard as I can, as if I might be able to bring her back if I fought hard enough.

I'll never be able to bring her back. No matter how fucking hard I try she's always going to be gone. She's never going to come back. District 1 will never be the same. I can't just sit still like Luscious can. I have to make something of myself. I have to fight for her. Who else is going to?

Her parents can't really do much. Her brother Alabaster is too dense to realize the magnitude of what just happened. Luscious has no initiative to do things. If nobody else is going to fight for Iridesce, I am. You can bet your ass on that.

I fight as hard as I can. I've been training as hard as I can, and I just haven't been able to measure up to the others. The hopes of volunteering get slimmer and slimmer every day. Without Iridesce to give me advice, I'm falling behind the others.

Doesn't mean I'll stop trying. Doesn't mean I'll "just stop" beating myself up about this. If I'm not good enough to avenge my best friend, what kind of friend does that make me!? A failure.

I was never really worthy of being friends with Iridesce Eurian. Now, in the moment she should be avenged I can't even get there.

I drop my sword and it clatters to the ground. Tears fill my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly. "I'm sorry I can't win you justice." It was stupid to think I ever could. I run out of the Training Center and back home, where I know I can break down in peace and nobody will bother me.

.

-Amory, 16- Friend of Callum-

I had a bottle to my lips the second the cannon boomed.

Since then, I haven't stopped. Sure, drinking used to be fun, but it actually does get your mind off of whatever shit's being thrown your way.

I close my eyes and chug. The sooner I can be drunk off my ass, the better. The alcohol burns as it goes down my throat, but it doesn't even phase me anymore.

"Amory?" I hear an all-too-familiar voice. It's Niss. "Don't tell me-"

"Take one," I say, reaching for the six pack I carry around with me. "They're really good."

"You're already slurring," she says, "Come on, let's get you home."

"It'll help!" I try to tell her, but she must not understand what I'm saying. She grabs me by the shoulder and when she pulls me up, the world decides it would like to start spinning like crazy. I blink and try to regain my balance. Oh, the familiar feeling of being at ease. I'm determined to get Niss to let go. "C'mon Niss!"

"Let's go." She drags me along, and I feel quite dizzy as I'm not exactly sure where the floor is.

"You have to cut this out now," she says. "I know you're only doing it to forget Callum, but alcohol is dangerous!"

"It's fun!"

"It'll get you killed." She keeps dragging me along, and I can't stop her. In fact, I can't really do much of anything until she stops moving me and I can figure out which way is up again. She opens the door to her house and drags me in, and the lights make my head spin. She lets me go and I manage to make it to the couch.

"C'mon. Just one," I try, reaching for one to give her. "Don't you want to be happy again? Just for a little while?"

"Alcohol can't make you happy."

"Sure it can. I'm pretty happy, and I'm just a bit tipsy."

Suddenly, I hear a sniffle. Niss starts to cry.

"Aw, Niss, c'mon!"

"I'm losing you too," she sobs quietly.

"What?"

"I already had to sit and watch our best friend be betrayed by his own ally!" she sobs into her hands.

"One of these and you won't think about it," I try.

"No, Amory!" she sobs. "You're throwing yourself away too! I've lost you both!"

"Niss-"

She throws a blanket at me. "Go to sleep Amory."

She runs out of the room, sobbing, before I can stop her.

~.~.

* * *

District 2

* * *

-Hannah Alice Roth, 16- Girlfriend of Maggie-

I'm still not sure why she volunteered.

I can't believe that just like that, she's gone. It was so fast. It was chaotic. One bolt of lightning and that was it. She's dead.

I had spent so much time in denial. So much time telling myself she would get back. She was so close to the final 8. I was so optimistic; I was trying to decide what to wear for a final 8 interview. I never should've turned my back on that television. As if watching would have done anything to change what was happening.

One minute I was sure she'd be home soon, the next she was dead. Just like that.

These past few days, I've just felt plain old lost. I have no idea what I'm going to do without her. I don't know how I'm going to keep going. It feels like a piece of me has been ripped out and thrown into outer space. I'll never get it back.

I've spent the past days locked up in my room, crying. I should've stood in Maggie's way. I should've beat her to that stage. I should have known what she was going to do and tried to stop her. I should have tried harder.

We had always talked about running away together.

Sure, we were young, but we were both smart and resourceful and not afraid of a risk. And, even if we had died on our way out, at least we would have been together. Now, I'm left here without her. I loved her so much… I love her still today. I will never stop loving her. Even if I move on, there's nothing like a first love. She was torn away from me so suddenly… I wish I had told her how much I loved her more. I wish I had held her closer, for longer. There are so many things I wish I had done but didn't get to do. Now, they're nothing but empty regrets.

I haven't had the courage to go to Maggie's house yet. I can't face her little sister Sammie, the light still in her eyes, asking when Maggie will come home… I can't do it yet. I have to have some time to heal first. I have to build up the courage.

The service was short. Both caskets were closed. I don't think I could've stood for them to be open. Ashe was by herself, and didn't stop crying the entire time. It's not fair that this happened, but that's life. Things just… Poofed back to normal. My parents forced me back to training just in case I'd ever end up in the Games. Justus Fiore, who was supposed to volunteer for Vidarr, became a Head Trainer. He still has a bit of a limp. He's loud and bossy but effective.

I'm still healing. I don't know if I will ever been totally healed. I get better each day, but I still miss her all the time. There will never be a time I don't miss her and wish we would have run away together when we could.

But I know that I have to keep being strong and continue to live day-to-day.

And, for Maggie, that's something I can do.

.

-Pit Kensy, 38- Mentor of Vidarr-

I sit on the train, ready for another year of mentoring. Peregrine drew me another picture, and Damon gave me a baseball, just in case I have some time to play with one of the other Victors. He doesn't know how this works, but I don't ever want him to.

I knew from the very beginning that I wanted the male tribute this year. And, as I always have been, I'm ready to fight someone to make sure that's how it is.

The female tribute for the 100th Games walks off with her mentor, leaving me with Odin Yggdraval.

"So, ya made it to the Games." I take a pastry and sit across from him on the couch.

Odin gives a nod but doesn't say anything. I'm pretty sure he's trying to cover awkwardness with brute strength. At that, I laugh.

"What?" He shoots me a look.

"Nothing, nothing. I just… Not even five minutes and I already see your father in you." I laugh some more. It's all I can do to hide the guilt. If I had just been able to warn him, or do _something_ for him, send him something, anything, maybe I could've gotten him out alive.

Dammit, he never even _knew_ she was pregnant! I didn't even get the note down there in time. I had spent so much time alone, wondering how the hell I could let this happen.

" _You couldn't have done anything,"_ Nikko tried to console me, as always. _"It was fate. It was the Gamemakers. It wasn't your fault."_ But if I had done something other than sit and scream at the screen in the mentor room just maybe… Maybe I could have done something. Ashe didn't want to talk to me. I don't blame her. I can't imagine what it would have been like to carry a baby without Nikko there to make things better. It must have been hell.

"My Dad?" he gives me a look.

"Mhm. You're not the first Yggdraval I mentored. Know how you can tell, Odin? 'Cause I pronounced your last name correctly on the first try."

"I only took it because I couldn't bear the name of a coward."

"Your mother wasn't a coward."

"She took her own _life_."

"Odin, please. You don't understand."

"Guess I don't. Not that he was much better." He looks at me expectantly, knowing I'm going to defend him.

"Your father was _not_ a coward."

"What was he like then?"

His cold façade melts, ever so slightly. He… Actually wants to know.

I smile a little bit. "Where do I even start? Well, when I was mentoring him, I was also nine months pregnant. He was really quiet and awkward, like you. But very determined. He just wanted to make it back to Ashe, and you."

"How do you know he wouldn't have left my mother? Or forced her to kill me?" he asks coldly.

"Because, unlike you, I _knew_ him."

He sinks, quiet again.

I swallow a lump in my throat as tears come to my eyes. "I wish you could've gotten to know him, Odin." All of the pain from before comes back. All of the guilt for something I couldn't control, all of the pain and misery I've been carrying. "I really do. He was… Worth knowing, even if it was for as little time as a week."

"You think he's in me?" he doesn't look like he believes me.

I take a tissue and dab at my eyes. I used to hate breaking down in front of other people, but now it's something I do all the damn time. "I know he's in you. Your mannerisms are so similar."

"Oh…"

"I want to get you home, Odin. I want to make you a Victor. If you let me, I want to succeed from where I failed last time. What do you say?"

There's a moment of silence between us before he takes a deep breath.

"Yeah. Sure. I want to win and get back to 2. Prove them wrong."

Just like Vidarr, this one's a fighter.

I'm going to bring him home.

~.~.

* * *

District 3

* * *

-Gregor Hensley, 15- Nephew of Cyra-

It's _that_ time of year again.

Every year we learn about the Games, each of the Games, the tributes, the Arenas, the horrors. Stupid Capitol curricula that remind us how damn long this nightmare's been happening, unchallenged. And today is the day I dread. The 84th Games.

They start out simple when we're young. Just knowing the Victor and the Arena. Then they get into the nitty gritty. This year, we're watching it for the first time.

I've watched bits and pieces. Most of the pre-Games stuff. I wanted to know my Aunt. My parents talk about her all the time. I never got to know her, she died when I was just a little kid. My Mom sent me off to school with a kiss on the top of the head and a simple "be strong." I'm not ready to watch it.

My heart pounds as the teacher starts trying to get the TV to work. It doesn't take long at all. My heart pounds harder as the clock counts down.

I'm not ready. I'm not ready…

When the counter's on 10, I stand up quickly. Before anyone can ask, I grab my backpack and dash out of the room as fast as I can. Maybe it's stupid that I can't sit here and watch it. After 83 straight days of watching Games, I don't want to watch anymore. I don't care if I'm skipping my Dad can chew me out for it later. All I know is that I have to get out.

I stop to put my books in my locker and start out the door.

Right outside the door is another boy, lighting a cigarette. I stop in my tracks.

He looks up at me, and I notice his hands shaking.

"You know you're skipping, right?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Excuse me," I say, putting my hands on my hips, "So are you."

He hits a lighter off his leg, looking confused as he tries to make it work. He glances up at me and says, "You don't seem like the skipping type, though."

I swallow a lump in my throat and scowl. "I'm not skipping because I _want_ to."

"If you don't want to skip, then just go back."

"It's not like that!" I say, angry tears forming in my eyes. I wish I could stop them, but I just can't. I just try to keep my voice steady. "I'm not going to sit in there and watch my aunt die!"

He stops what he was doing and gives me a glance. "Your… Aunt?"

"Yes, you heard me," I say, digging my knuckles into my eyes to stop the tears. "Now get out of my way." I stomp past him, ready to leave.

"My uncle died in the same Games."

I freeze in place. I don't turn to look at him, though. I have to make a decision.

"Bet Romilly. You are?" He approaches me.

I swivel on my foot, slowly. "Greg. Hensley."

"No kidding. She really was your aunt."

"What does it matter now anyways? They're both dead. Kendal Beck is the Victor." There's another pause.

"I don't have a single memory of him," he says quietly. "Only what my parents told me."

"It's miserable, isn't it?" I ask. "She's simultaneously a loved one and a total stranger."

"No kidding." His hands are still shaking as he tries to get the lighter to work.

"That's probably not a good idea."

"Th-They said it'd calm me down. I need some peace for once. The reapings are coming up too quickly."

"Bet. This isn't going to help."

"I have to at least try. Come on, haven't you ever been curious what it's like?"

"No, but…"

He gets a flame to appear and smiles in his victory.

"Plus, it looks cool too."

He puts the cigarette in his mouth and lights it as I watch. There's a second's delay before he starts coughing and spluttering, taking the death-stick out of his mouth to gag.

" _So_ suave. Take me now, Hot Stuff," I say sarcastically.

His lips turn up in a grin. "Oh God I think I puked a little bit," he says, coughing and laughing at the same time.

"You seem so calm."

"So maybe this stuff isn't for anyone."

"Besides, you don't want to deal with the health risks."

"Maybe you're right. I spent good money on this stuff though."

"I'm sure someone else would want them."

"Guess so."

I glance back at the school, suddenly feeling guilty for skipping. I know my parents won't be happy if they knew I just walked out of class…

"I should get back in there…."

"What? Why?"

"I don't really have anywhere to go and-"

"Come home with me." He grabs my hand. "My Mom's expecting me to skip anyways. Let's go have lunch."

I glance back at the school over my shoulder. That death trap where I would only have to watch Aunt Cyra be burned alive and probably panic.

"Please, Greg."

I turn towards him, away from the school, and smile a bit. "Yeah, sure. Thanks for the offer."

He starts towards his house, not letting go of me, and I figure that if my parents knew why I was skipping, they wouldn't be too upset after all.

~.~.

* * *

District 4

* * *

-Vandala Lecter, 20- Sister of Serafina Anya-

I sit in my room and paint my sister.

Painting is very much a hobby, nothing more, but lately it's been the only way I've been able to cope.

"Watcha doin' Vandala?" I hear a voice come from the doorway. It's Ohen.

"Nothing much," I say, looking away from the painting. "You?"

He shrugs a little bit, and I know that he's missing her again.

"C'mere," I say, and the 14-year-old thankfully rushes into my arms.

"How's Evie?" I ask him, trying to distract him. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Today is one of those days that it doesn't.

"I miss her Vandala," he says quietly, and I know that it's going to be a teary kind of day. That's alright, though. This is hard to overcome. Healing is going to take a while. He's really been trying to hold it in. I wouldn't want him to hold it in, though. That's never a good thing.

He glances at the painting I was adding details to. Serafina Anya, when she looked her happiest: dancing. She had such a beautiful figure, and she moved so gracefully. She found true joy, passion, in the art of dancing. She never let anything stop her when she was moving music. She never let anything stop her in general, really.

"She looks so real," Ohen says, his glassy eyes looking at the painting. "Like she's really dancing. Like she'll wave to us and take a bow and get flowers from all her admirers."

"I miss her just as much as you do, O. You're not alone."

He sniffles and buries his face in my neck. "What if the Games take me, too?"

"They won't."

"What if?!"

"Four is becoming a powerful force. They're getting volunteers every year. As long as-"

"She didn't want to volunteer!" he sobs. "And she went in anyways!"

"Sh… Listen. They only forced her to because she was high up in training. If you just lay low you'll never step foot up on that stage, okay? You're okay. You're not going to go into the Games. I promise."

"You can't promise that!" he sobs some more.

"Sh…" I stroke his hair gently. "I know I can't. But I'll do everything I can to make sure you don't go into any Arena. Okay?"

He sniffles and cries quietly into my neck. "I want her back," he says quietly. "It's not fair that she's not here."

"I know, O. I know it's not fair. Fate isn't fair. We just have to keep finding a way to get by without her."

"Will it ever get better?"

"Of course it will. I'm not saying we'll never miss her. But I'm saying that we'll keep going. She'll be with us. Her joy will fill us. We'll be alright."

"Someday," he sniffles.

"Someday," I say, handing him a tissue. "C'mon, let's go see if we can help set the table for dinner."

"Okay." He blows his nose and wipes at his eyes.

Together, we walk down to help with the evening meal, and hold our loved ones close through this time of pain and sadness.

~.~.

-Joshua, 17- Friend of Collin-

I wake up with new scratches and groan. So maybe waking up in someone else's bed for the fifth day in a row isn't a good thing. That barely matters to me now. It's either spend the nights awake missing my best friend or stay awake with someone else, at least giving pleasure to someone else if I can't find any myself. I can have whichever girl I please in this whole District, why not give them all what they want?

She doesn't even stir as I get out of bed, wincing. I wash my face and sneak out of the room. I wish I could stay, but I have to get to work.

It's a stormy morning, but that doesn't mean work will slow or cease. I still have to get out there, I still have to try and catch fish, just like any other day. It isn't any different than those days when Collin was still around. I still get on the boat and see Phillip. He still gives me a smile and a "Good morning!" He still tries to talk my ear off. He hasn't changed like I have.

When we were younger and Collin lost his father, he changed. Suddenly he was stoic and cold, and especially quiet. You probably won't believe me when I say this, but as a kid, Collin never shut up. After he lost his father it became so hard to make him smile. I never understood. Why didn't he just let go? Why didn't he just smile and laugh? Why didn't he just let go of his father, let go, and go back to having fun?

Now, all these years later, I understand.

It's not that easy.

I objectify myself, have been ever since he died. I could stop. But then I would have to face the hole in my life that he left when he died. I'm a coward, I'm not ready to do that yet. Phillip still doesn't get it: he was sad for a week and somehow he was just able to let it go. He says it's because that's what Collin would've wanted for him to do, but I have trouble believing that. I miss him so much, how am I just supposed to… not miss him anymore? It's easier said than done.

Every day is harder and harder without him. I have to keep going through the motions, but it's hard. His little brother Tryin still says hi to me on the street. The little guy's much quieter and more detached, just like his brother. Amazing how one event can impact so many lives and change people so much.

I know that we have to keep going, but it's not easy.

I face every day without him, but I know that he wouldn't want me to give up. I still have to watch over Tryin and the others and make sure that nobody else gets into trouble.

As hard as it is, I'll just have to hold on. Things will get better someday.

I dab at some of the scratches that are still bleeding.

Sooner is better than later.

~.~.

* * *

District 5

* * *

-Victor Mackall, 19- Friend of Cory-

I still take care of the damn bird.

Mr. Smith and Mr. Baker still allow me over to see it.

I don't know why I still see that stupid raven. It doesn't even like me. It liked Cory, and that was all. It's been weeks since she's gone, and she hasn't come back. Sam, as she called it, is smart enough to know she's not coming back and he's going to have to deal with the Mr. Baker, Mr. Smith, and myself taking care of it.

I'm thankful that they've taken me in with them. My parents have been trying to shove me out since I turned 18, said that it'd be good for me, that I need to know independence, I can't live with them forever. I can't believe my own two parents would do that to me during my time of greatest need. How am I supposed to get on without Cory? More importantly, how am I supposed to go on without Cory alone? I need support, and Cory's uncles have been so kind as to help me along the way. I can never repay them for that.

They took it harder than me. Especially poor Mr. Baker. After Cory lost her parents, and now he lost her too… Of all of us, he misses her the most, that's just a fact. But, he's also the most uplifting out of all of it. I tend to draw back when faced with the grief. I don't want anyone else to know how I'm feeling. I don't want them to know that I'm vulnerable. That's the kind of house I grew up in. Mr. Baker wears it all on his sleeve. He always tears up, but he's still smiling. He says that Cory and her parents are together, and they're happy. They don't want us to see them too early, but they'll be waiting for us to reach them.

Cory's uncles always let me drink some tea when I come over. They've kind of adopted me, in a way. They're trying to help me find a place, and helping me grow and move on from this horrible situation. They're really trying to make the best of it, and help me to make the best of it.

It hurts. Being without her hurts. I said I'd be lost without her and I meant it. I don't know where to go from here. Looking for places is stressful, and brings about the possibility of me moving far away from home. Half of me jumps at the opportunity. I would love to get rid of the memories with a ghost in them. The other part knows that it won't fix anything. I can't just stop missing her. I can't just stop feeling like this.

All I know is that this is a day-by-day process. I won't just be able to forget about her.

I'm trying to find a bright side, but I can't.

A ray of light was taken from this world far too early.

I will never be the same person again.

And I'm going to have to get used to who I am now before I can start healing again.

.

-Millie Dalton, 16- Friend of Hamilton-

His parents don't know what they did to him.

They constantly broke him down and they didn't have a clue. Now, he's dead and they still don't know. They don't miss him.

Albert served as a crying shoulder during the service. It was sad and pitiful. Hamilton's casket was open, Cory's was closed. He's pale, and doesn't look like the Hamilton I had spent so much time working next to in the factories. He's so lifeless. It's such an unnatural sight that I rip my eyes away and bury my face in Albert's shoulder. Albert and I were never really that close, Hamilton kind of brought us together, but right now I need some kind of support, and Al's the only one left that can provide that for me.

This is every ounce as hard as I thought it would be. I've been dreading this day ever since that girl from 11 killed him. I've been in desperate pain for my friend to be back by my side for weeks. I dread the day that the Victor of his Games comes and tells us that we should be okay.

During the service, his parents whisper back and forth. His older brother keeps nodding off and waking up again.

I approach them as soon as the service is over.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rayce?"

They turn around and give a glance down at me.

"Yes. It's Millie. Hamilton's friend from work." I clear my throat. "And… Well…" I try not to cry, but a sob comes out before I can stop it. "How can you be so composed at the funeral of your youngest child!?" I had heard of favoritism, but this is just ridiculous.

"I can't say I miss him horribly," Jackson shrugs, giving me a glance downward. "I'm not gonna rip myself up about it."

"He was _fifteen_!" I can't hold back any longer. I yell. I scream at him. I can't control it anymore. "He was your youngest son, your youngest brother, and he's dead now and you guys don't even care!"

"Take a deep breath. Millie, was it? It's going to be okay." Mrs. Rayce pats my shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" I shout. "He's dead and gone and it's not fair!"

"He didn't stand a chance," Mr. Rayce says.

"Excuse me?" I look up at him, shaking with rage as more tears come to my eyes.

"You didn't know the pathetic side of Hamilton, Sweetheart," Jackson says. "He couldn't even watch the Games on TV. As soon as he was reaped we knew he was dead meat. We were prepared." Mrs. Rayce starts to tear up and buries her face in her hands.

"How dare you say that! How dare you let them talk about him that way! How dare you!"

Albert comes over just then and takes me by the shoulders. "Let's just go, Millie."

"No!" I shout desperately, as he pulls me away in the other direction. "I'm not done with them! They don't understand what they did! They don't understand!" I keep yelling and sobbing, and Albert finally lets me go once we've reached my neighborhood and I finally surrender.

"How do they not understand?" I ask, hiccupping and wiping at my eyes.

Albert hugs me, and I hug back thankfully.

"They're not going to understand until they wake up one morning and realize how much they miss him. You can't make them see, Millie."

"It's not fair!" I sob.

"I know it's not fair. None of this is fair."

Hamilton should still be alive. The Games should have been over years ago.

Our best friend is gone. He's never coming back.

And his family doesn't even notice that he's not there.

~.~.

* * *

District 6

* * *

-Mirabel West, 18- Billie's sister-

I never gave up on her.

Even when everyone else did, I didn't. I refused to give up on my sister. She had a chance and never gave up. Not my Billie. She was just a bit too ambitious. That's all.

Mom and Dad haven't been home any more often. It seems they always have to be busy and out of the house. Dad only took one day off of work after Billie had died. Mom took two. Then they were right back at it.

I hate this ghost house.

Everywhere I go I see her. I haven't even come within ten feet of her bedroom since she left for the Capitol. I haven't had the courage to. I know that I'm the one that's going to have to do it, though. Mom and Dad will busy themselves until they don't have to think about it anymore. They won't touch it and it'll just become a pile of artifacts and dust.

The day after the funeral, I decide to brave it and enter.

The action itself wasn't as hard as I thought. It was as simple as a step forward. It was only when I looked around that the memories began to hurt. That crack in the ceiling, that we always joked would someday grow and destroy the whole junkheap we call home. The floorboard that creaked every time you stepped on it. Billie said she could feel it, it was so bad. The dresser drawers that always got stuck and caused a lot of frustration and swearing. The little details make it so hard.

I step in the room, not even sure where to start. How do you clean out a dead person's things? I suppose I could sell her clothes, or offer them to some of the street dwellers. I start making piles, things that can be given away and things that might as well be thrown away they were so old. Billie wasn't exactly great at cleaning out her things. To get her to do anything, she had to want to do it. She did what she wanted to damn well, but didn't like taking orders. I remember when she was just a kid and always blamed her lack of chores on an imaginary friend named Mrs. Tillymilly. After I told her my panther mutt ate Mrs. Tillymilly she cried for at least a week. Things like those, silly little things that we laughed about later, are the hardest.

Soon, I find that I just can't do this anymore. I get up and leave the room, tears pouring out of my eyes.

I'll find a way to get through the rest of her things, just… Not now. The wound is too fresh still.

Healing is a process that takes time, and I have to let it run its course.

.

-Kyle Norwood, 15- Friend of Amari-

Lydia hasn't stopped crying since he died.

It's been at least 24 hours and she's barely moved. I offered to call her boyfriend but she doesn't want to see him right now. I have no idea what she wants. What am I going to do for her? The only times she's gotten up all day were to piss and try to dry her tears. She'd just come back out and start crying again. My shirt is soaked. I just sit and listen, though a snarky comment comes out every once in a while that makes her cry harder, hit me, or both. So, I offer to go get her boyfriend, he knows how to deal with her. To which she tells me she doesn't want to see him. And the cycle continues.

It's exhausting. Finally, the girl curls up into a tiny ball of Lydia and dozes off. I take that second to breathe a sigh of relief. She needs the rest, and I need to eat something or else I'm going to start chewing my fingers off. I go to the kitchen, leaving her on the couch, and make lunch.

I pour two glasses of water, one for me and one for her when she wakes up. I figure I should go try to get her makeup stains off of my shirt. If there was any chance of bawling her eyes out on my favorite white T, you'd think she'd have the common decency to not do dark raccoon makeup around the eyes. I don't know a thing about washing clothes, that's a mother's job, but let it sit in the water as I change into a black T-shirt and finish off my sandwich.

I walk back up to the living room and take a seat again. Lydia's still sleeping soundly. I bet she's going to be out for a while, she really worked herself up about it. I drop a blanket over her and let her be.

Amari's dead. Time's still ticking. The Games are still going. Nothing's set on fire. Our hearts are still beating.

It's not like I'm not going to miss him. After all, if he were here he'd probably agree that Lydia's blowing this crazily out of proportion. Twenty-four straight hours of tears is enough for a lifetime. Amari would just want us to keep smiling and keep going. He wouldn't want Lydia to ruin my favorite shirt with twenty-four straight hours of tears.

I watch the TV, in silence. The realization that he's really gone is taking some time to sink in. I'll have to find someone else to talk to about all the people we've seen in school. I could easily get that kid that was crazy about Amari to be my new friend, but nobody could be like Amari.

Lydia's not the one that still remembers what he tasted like.

I try to shake out the negativity. It's ridiculous.

I know I'll survive without Amari here. It's what he'd want me to do. Not sob like a fucking baby.

So, I'll move on. I'll keep living.

I don't really have another choice.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: It's 5:56 and I honestly don't know if I have 6 districts left in me. I'm going to try my best though. But, I'm splitting the District epilogues into two parts. Either way, I'm going to finish this story by tomorrow. I'm just making sure that I don't surrender quality in favor of speed.**_

 _ **Also, I said "400 word epilogues, that's it" and that didn't work out so well. Whoops. That's okay though. So, two more chapters left of this. I'll try to get another one out but we'll see.**_

 _ **Stream tonight! I'll probably take a break for an hour from 7- 8 ish to do some drawing and then starting at 9 ish maybe I'll stream some epilogue-writing or draw some more. Not quite sure. Either way I'd love to see you there!**_

 _ **Alright, I'm gonna stop talking now so I can try and get the rest of the epilogues done today.**_

 _ **Chapter Question: For those that had a tribute with an epilogue in this chapter: Did you like it? Why or why not? For those that didn't have a tribute with an epilogue this chapter: Whose stood out the most and why?**_


	43. District Epilogues II

District 7

* * *

-Andreia Barreil, 18- Girlfriend of Riella-

Every morning I wake up hung over. Every morning I open my eyes and wish I'd died last night.

How could I have let her go into that Arena? Fuck whatever promises we made. I should have kept her from going into that Arena. I should have taken her place. Two damn words would have saved her! Two stupid, fucking words that I never said and now she's dead.

I don't need any fucking hospitality. People come to my house to tell me they're sorry but it's not their fault. It's _mine_. It's _his._ Riella would have been a better Victor and we all know it. It's complete bullshit! The Capitol should have been there to make sure the right person came out of that Games! They're going to regret letting her die.

Every morning I'm reminded that she isn't here and she's never coming back. Every morning I'm reminded that I'm alone. All of that time and work I put into her, all of those hours we stayed awake together, all of those times she couldn't see her own perfection and I showed her glimpses of it. All of those times we laughed… All those ways that she changed me and I changed her. It's completely wasted.

I haven't taken that stupid necklace off since she left. Maybe I don't fucking deserve to wear it. Maybe I never fucking deserved her at all. Maybe she could have found someone way better, someone that had her life together, someone that had a stable job with a good income, someone who was smart, pretty, talented, actually _going_ places.

But she picked fucking _me_.

She stayed with _me_.

She loved _me_.

And dammit, that _means_ something. That means _everything_. She could have had any girl she smiled at and she stayed in this shitty apartment with this shitty girlfriend that let her go off and die without even _trying_ to die in her place.

I never told her how much I loved her. I was always too afraid. I always told her how beautiful she was, or how sexy she looked, or how funny she was, or that she was adorable, but when it came time for me to look her in the fucking eyes, the words died on my lips and I never got to spit them out. I never told her how I felt. I should have told her every day. I should have told her all the time. I should have let her know how fucking much I love before it was too fucking late!

And now what? Now I'm just going to be without her for the rest of my life. I never deserved her. I should have died in her place. She should be here, not me. I can't believe I was too stupid to see that until it was too late.

As soon as I get out of bed, I start drinking again.

 _Maybe this time it'll actually kill me._

I can only hope.

* * *

District 8

* * *

-Jonathan, 20- Boyfriend of Felicity-

She was the first to die. Our child was the second.

What could I have done to stop it? I couldn't have volunteered. I couldn't have made them stop. I couldn't have done a single thing to stop the horrors, and yet I still had to watch them.

Would they have had blue eyes like mine? Or hazel like hers?

Thinking about Felicity is so hard. Thinking about the child we lost is even harder.

Would they have had black hair like hers? Brown like mine? Maybe blond, or red, if they got the right genes? I can't stand to think about it, but these questions keep floating around in my mind.

She looked stunning. Truly stunning. For her interview, during her pre-Games time. She could pull anything off, that Felicity. She could look smoking hot in any outfit she pleased. If our child would have been anything like their mother, they would have been a star in the making. She was so perfect, and just like that she was plucked away. Fate is cruel.

She had a strategy, and she stuck to it until the end. Soon, she'll be nothing but a name in textbooks, but she was so much more than that. She was everything. She was everything I ever needed or wanted. She was loyal and reliable and never left my side. She was a real friend, not just a girlfriend. She was all that I needed, all that I wanted. I was going to be a father, I was going to ask her to marry me and we could have been such an adorable little family. Instead, the Capitol took her and our baby and killed them both in one strike.

Why? Why couldn't they have taken someone else instead? She was pregnant. It was obvious. They loved it. They loved having a pregnant babe in their Games. They loved the story. They loved the special twist. They treated her like a queen and then slaughtered her. What kind of person would think this is humane?

I sit by myself and twist the engagement ring I was going to give to my one true love around in my hands. It took so much money. I'll be lucky to sell this for _half_ of what I bought it for.

That's not what matters. The fact is that by now, it should be on her finger, not in my hands. We were going to be a family. We were going to be happy. I was going to be there through everything.

And now we're here.

I kneel at the grave. I can't sell this ring now. I've put too much into it. I dig into the dirt, as deep as I can, constantly checking to be sure no one is watching, and drop the ring in the ground, covering it before anyone can see.

She'll always have this ring.

She'll always have my heart.

.

-Ralph Lauren, 14- Friend of Nautica-

This is bullshit.

Nautica was the best fighter we had in the Renegades, there's no way he should've died on the first day. That District 10 bitch has no idea what was coming to her. I hope she burns in hell for what she did.

Since he died I haven't shown my face. The fear of breaking down with everyone there to laugh at me is far too high at this point. When I took up life in a gang I vowed to never shed a tear, to laugh in the face of adversity and use it to get whatever the hell it is that I want.

But I'm still human. I still feel pain. I still feel lost, and broken. Nothing anyone does is going to change that.

It's at least a week before I leave my house. I know that if there had just been one gun in that Cornucopia that the Games would've been over in a day.

I dig my hands in my pockets and try to let the sunshine make me feel warm. I keep walking, trying to avoid people. I feel like everyone's watching me, pitying me, even if it's not true.

I feel alone. Nothing will be able to change that. He'll always be gone. And Nautica was the only one that was able to handle me.

I keep walking, head down, when suddenly I'm sent backwards when someone bumps straight into me. Probably on purpose. I'm not letting this guy get away with this.

I quickly call after him, "Hey!"

The kid looks about my age. He turns around slowly, cautiously. His eyes flicker up to me slowly.

"Who do you think you're messing with here?"

The kid swallows hard, stepping back. "I'm sorry," he says quietly, staring at the ground. These District kids, the one that get their noses wiped for them, have been taught to never make eye contact. This kid is pitiful, but obedient. He's just doing what Mommy and Daddy told him to. _Adorable_.

Okay, so he's kind of adorable. Only In the pitiful way, of course. Rosy cheeks, tan skin, shaggy hair, big blue eyes. Makes me hesitate before picking a fight. But not for too long. The cute ones can be the most dangerous. I lunge at him, causing him to brace for impact. His eyes are wide and he apologizes, but he doesn't fight back. He doesn't even break when I shout at him.

So maybe I need a punching bag, what does it matter? Nobody's here to stop me. Maybe beating this kid's brains out will make me strong again. He certainly cries like a bitch for mercy. I'm just about to knock him out when I feel someone grab the back of my shirt and pull me up to my feet.

When I look up I see an older guy with a yellow feather tucked behind his ear.

"Ant, go find Giselle and Cadogan," he instructs the kid, whose nose is bleeding by now. "I'll deal with this rat."

"Let me go!" I don't care if he's older than me, I'm still ready to fight.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." He drops me and scowls. "This is a pacifistic family. Just think before you go picking fights with kids who wouldn't even swat at the flies you eat for _lunch_ , rat."

I sneer at him but he turns around before I can retort. I stand there and watch him go.

I take a deep breath, feeling more alone than ever.

Maybe that guy's obnoxious and he's wearing a gay-as-hell feather, but he's right.

Beating the shit out of cute kids isn't going to bring Nautica back. Nothing will bring him back. I will always be alone.

I turn around and run back home before the whole Square can see me crack.

* * *

District 9

* * *

-Ferris Ryce, 15- Friend of Karima-

 _Wake up at exactly 8:05 A.M._

 _Get out of bed._

 _Go to the bathroom._

 _Wash my face._

 _Put on pants, then shirt, then socks and shoes._

 _Comb my hair._

 _Eat one piece of bread with peanut butter for breakfast._

 _Brush teeth._

 _Walk to school with Karima._

 _Classes._

 _Eat lunch with Karima._

 _Classes._

 _Walk out to the fields with Karima._

 _Work._

 _Walk home with Karima._

 _Say, "I'll see you tomorrow!"_

 _Go inside the house._

 _Bathe on Mondays. All other days, change into pajamas._

 _Go to bed at exactly 10:00 P.M._

 _Repeat._

It's a routine. Every weekday I would do this. This is what is normal. This is what is typical. This is what is unchanging.

So suddenly, everything is different. The change has been driving me crazy. How am I supposed to walk to school with Karima when she's not there anymore?! How am I supposed to eat lunch with her, or work with her, or walk with her? How am I supposed to have my routine without her?!

All I've been feeling lately is stress. I watched my best friend die in front of my eyes, which has just started a chain of misery. I can't go anywhere without feeling anxious that something else will happen to ruin my routine. Everything needs to be a certain way. On this fact, Karima and I agreed. We liked to have our routine, and stick to it. Anything out of the ordinary only caused anxiety.

I haven't been calm since she was sent away. Reaping days ruin the routine, because there is no school, but those are usually easily recovered from. This is totally different. A vital part to my routine has been eliminated, and now I can't seem to find balance in anything anymore. Not even school calms me, or work, where everything is planned out for you. Without her there has been no equilibrium. I'm not used to eating lunch alone. I'm not used to new people coming to sit with me because they feel bad for me. I'm not used to talking to people that aren't Karima. I know how to talk to Karima. I don't know how to talk to all these strangers that keep trying to make conversation with me. They're only trying to help, but it isn't much help.

They think I'm weird. They feel sorry for me, they think I'm messed up, or broken or something. I can see it in their eyes.

I sure as hell _feel_ broken. I can't find solace in anything anymore.

My way of life has changed, and now I feel like the ship is being tossed around so much I can't gain stable footing. An itch, an irritation. Nothing can fix it, nothing can put a band-aid on it.

They all ask the same question to me. Since Karima died, they've just been asking one question. Even if they haven't said it out loud, I can see it in their eyes.

"What the hell is wrong with this kid?"

I don't know.

I honestly don't know.

.

-Sophia Cole, 17- Friend of Kade-

I was laughing as they let me try to steer the car.

I was laughing with the same people that days later would be laughing as Kade was slaughtered.

He fought with everything he had in him. He did everything he could to survive. He wanted to get home, he wanted to win himself a better life. And he ended up here. Dead. Maybe he's with his family now, but that doesn't mean I don't miss him.

I thought I was finally done being alone. I'd found a partner, a keeper, a survivor. I knew that we'd look out for each other. We were both capable of fighting. I thought that finally I found someone that wouldn't be picked off by the violence of the streets.

And he wasn't. I was right. It took a bloody battle to the last strike to take him down. He wasn't easily subdued.

It's not his fault that I'm alone. But that doesn't mean that being alone doesn't suck just as much as it did last time I was left by myself. In fact, it hurts more.

I hadn't gotten attached to my previous partners and allies. I didn't really care about them. We were out to protect each other, but I guarded my heart under lock and key. The feeling of alone was still fresh in those days, and I refused to let it happen again. One, two, three partners were killed, and three times I didn't blink. I had been expecting it, after all.

This was different. He was different.

It started out the same. I determined that this kid wouldn't last 20 days. I treated him just like the other ones. Live bait.

Then he proved me wrong. He showed me his fighting spirit. He showed me kindness. And friendship. He showed me determination. He was ready to keep selling his own body even after being objectified to the point of bearing scars just because it earned him money. Even though I was cold to him, he was warm to me. He was loyal. He opened up to me, even when I was still writing him off. He wriggled his way into my heart, and the more of his fighting spirit he showed me, the warmer I was to him. I finally thought I'd gotten it right. I thought I'd found a partner and a friend that would be in it with me for the long haul. One that wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon.

And then I was proven wrong again, by the Capitol's cruelty.

I barely knew what was happening even as it was happening. It was night time and I was trying to watch on the big screen because my tiny television wasn't working. He was struck dead before I had a chance to realize that the cannon I was hearing was for him.

Being alone is the most horrible feeling. You can barely find the drive to keep going. Who else do you have except yourself? And when is it time to call it quits?

For some reason, I keep finding the strength to face the world. Not sure why, but I know it's what I have to do. Even if I'm alone, I'll still have a chance to change something before I ultimately kick the dust.

I just have to keep fighting tooth and nail towards that day, just like Kade would have wanted me to.

~.~.

* * *

District 10

* * *

-Edwin Schindler, 52- Employer of Rachel-

I can't pretend I know everything about Rachel Turner.

How could anyone know everything that girl had been through? She was always a closed book, and I was never one to pry. Not that she ever would have told me if I had tried. The world has broken her trust and locked up her heart. That was something I could never unlock or try to fix. She needs someone very special to do that.

There was a trace of it in that boy she allied with. There's no doubt about that. Whatever he had was enough for her to die to protect. That means something. But it would have taken someone even more special than him to really help her.

She was a firecracker. She was stubborn as a mule. Nothing was going to stop her from stepping foot in the Arena. I didn't know her plans, but even if I did I wouldn't have tried to stop her. She was an independent young woman that could make decisions for herself. Once she made one, she never stopped to reconsider. A quality that is dangerous, fatal, even, but respectable. I'm sure the parents of that girl that was reaped were thankful to her. And Kade, as well. She may have lost her life, but she used it to save others. Even if she was brash and tough, and snarky and sarcastic, she was not a bad person.

Somehow, even though she had nothing, she impacted the lives of others. Only Rachel Turner could find a way to go out with a bang. I say that in the most loving way, of course. It's what she would have wanted. In fact, I'm sure it was the exact wording she would have used if she were talking about it herself. That's a Rachel thing. Things like that about her tend to rub off on you when you spend all day around her. She always knew how to bring about a laugh.

Even if I never got to fully know her, I don't regret giving her the stability of a job working with me. I don't regret hiring her off of the street. She was a strong young woman that wanted to bring about change however she could. She taught me things, ruined some stereotypes, all while swearing every five words or so. She stood strong in who she was and the decisions that she made. She never once looked back, in all the time I've known her.

It would be silly of me to say that I knew who she really was. Nobody could have unlocked that.

But I can say in peace that she was a strong person that wanted change.

She died for Kade, she died for her beliefs. She never wavered.

That's a quality I only hope I can mimic. I may be older than she, but I've learned so much from her.

I'm almost sure that I will never meet anyone quite like Rachel Turner again. But that won't stop me from continuing to reach out to those that need it, no matter who they may be.

Thank you, Rachel, for the ways in which you've changed me and made me a better man.

May you rest in peace with your family and friends.

.

-Sire, 17- Friend of Raoul-

He tried to teach me how to play it once.

It didn't go very well. He was a lot more serious about it than I was. I was paying attention when he showed me how to tighten the bowstrings and put rosin on them, really. I was paying attention when he showed me the strings: G, D, A, E. I was following there.

I stopped paying attention when he said "G string" with a totally straight face. That's where he lost me. I was laughing and he was getting annoyed, but Raoul was pretty patient, so he just let me go, even though he didn't get it.

I tried to pay attention after that, but I was too far gone at that point. He just kept talking about stuff that I couldn't possibly follow. Something about intervals, and tuning. He would play two strings and just know what to do.

"See, you can hear that compared to the G, the D is flat. So you tighten the G string to bring up the pitch." He lost me again. He sighed indignantly, but after that I just let him go, knowing that I should leave the fiddle-playing to the guy that actually knows what he's doing.

He tried to help me play at least "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," but that didn't go very well either. Eventually we decided to call it quits, and instead I just listened as he played. Let me tell you, he could really make that old, rotting piece of wood sing. I don't know anyone that could do what he could do. I don't know who could take that old hunk of junk and use it to make something beautiful. Not even the best-trained violinist in the Capitol symphony could do what he did. He always wished for a better instrument, not like there was ever a chance he could get one, those are so expensive, but he used to fantasize about it.

Here I was, thinking maybe he could be able to get it after he won. Use it to show the whole world real music. Real passion. Real art.

He was close. The District was daring to hope for a Victor. People were rooting him on. Of course, we all expected Rachel to come out on top after the reaping and through the stuff in the Capitol, but Raoul was showing everyone that they were wrong to underestimate him. He made Drake and I proud. I thought that maybe if he got home he could get the courage talk to Vera. I thought that things could work out after all.

I was proven wrong. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. One second I was sure he'd win the fight, the next he was dead and that was it. It was over. Amazing how quickly things can change.

I've been alright. Heartbroken, sure, but Drake and I have grown closer over it. Things are going to be alright. I miss him, but we're going to keep moving forward, just like that. As cheesy as it sounds, that's what he would want.

I just sit and think of the memories, and allow myself to smile. I'm going to be okay. I'm going to move on.

We're going to make it.

~.~.

* * *

District 11

* * *

-Jackson Dawson, 22- Boyfriend of Martina-

How did this happen?

I sit by my mother's bedside, missing her more than anything. If Martina was here she would be sitting next to me. She might take my hands in hers and tell me everything was going to be alright. I was already losing my mother, I never even thought about losing Martina, too. My love… My one and only love… Taken away so suddenly and so quickly. She did everything and it still wasn't enough. That boy from 10 still took her away.

Her family has each other to help them through. Who do I have? This sick woman who is asleep half the time and barely remembers who I am the other half. She's slipping, failing, soon she'll be gone. I thought that I'd be alright when it happened, after all, I had Martina, who would keep me from doing anything stupid and keep my emotions in check.

Those fights we had in the past seem so fucking irrelevant now. It took far too long for me to put into words that the reason I held her so tightly was because she was all I had left. Just her, only her. Only Martina. I knew my mother would slip, and even before she died that I'd lose her. Martina was my rock. No matter what she was there. She would help me through. We would make it through this together. That was how it was always supposed to be. Her and me against everyone else.

My mother coughs and her eyes flicker open, and I quickly lean in.

"You're awake!" each time she closes her eyes it becomes less and less likely that they'll open again. She doesn't say anything, but I quickly fetch her a glass of water and some bread. She's been getting pretty much everything I've been able to buy lately. I keep just as much as I need to survive so that I can keep taking care of her. She needs the nourishment.

"How are you feeling?"

She just shakes her head at me. She just stopped talking one day, and has barely said a word since. I suppose the effort of getting a word out has just become too much. Either that, or she's giving me the silent treatment because I've been failing to nurse her back to health. It wouldn't surprise me if that were the case. I can't help feeling like I'm letting her down. I could have never held up a household, I can't even care for my own mother. Every day she gets worse and all I can do is watch.

Since Martina died, I've become obsessed with working. From the second I'm awake to the second I go to bed, I want to work, I'm itching to earn money. Taking a bath makes me anxious because I could spend my time making more money to try and get my mother to someone with medicine. How was I supposed to care for anyone like this? I never could.

Leah and Trey still wave to me when I run into them at the Square. Martina's parents have opened their household to me. They want to let me in, to share their grief. But the truth is, I just can't. I'm too broken to open up by now. I have to keep working. I have to keep working, all the time, constantly getting my hands dirty and callused. It's the mark of a true citizen. I can't stand to go back to Martina's family now. My mother's eyes close again. I put the glass of water in the kitchen, and by the time I come back, her chest isn't moving anymore. I try to resuscitate her, anything to bring her back, but I know that it's too late. I've officially failed.

I'm about to… I don't know what… When I hear a knock at the door.

When I get it, Trey and Leah are there. Martina's siblings hold up a box to me.

"Hi Jackson. Here's some dinner for you and your mother."

"Oh. Thanks, but…" I swallow hard. I failed. I can't make myself tell them that.

"Second thought… Why don't you come home for dinner?"

"I-"

"Come. Please."

I glance back behind my shoulder, tears coming to my eyes.

"We want to help you," Trey says quietly.

I don't know what I'm getting myself into. "A-Alright."

I shut the door behind me, and together we walk back to the Reyés household.

.

-Mich Valtier, 18- Friend of Edgard-

I've been locked up for days.

It feels like just yesterday that the reaping wasn't a worry. It was just another day. Nothing really bad would happen, after all, there were so many names in that bowl it wasn't likely that anyone's would be picked, right?

I'm safe from being reaped.

Edgard is dead.

I believed in him. I guess I thought, maybe when faced with a fight for survival Edgard would become a different person. I guess I thought that he'd become bloodthirsty and determined to make it back. I was wrong. I feel ashamed. I should have been there for him more. I should have given him some kind of advice before he left. There's nothing I could have done, but there are plenty of things I could have _tried_. At least then I could have said that I tried. I did something, even if it didn't work.

I didn't even try.

I hear a knock on my door and hide in my blanket. I'm sick of my parents trying to get me to come out of my room. I'll come out when I'm ready to face the District knowing that Edgard's not coming back. I'm not ready for it yet. I'm not ready for any of it.

The door swings open.

"Go away!" I shout. I don't want to be bothered.

"I hiked all the way here, I'm not going anywhere." I look up and see Kayla.

"I'm putting the search for Mr. Right on hold," she says. I know it's supposed to be a joke, but I can't make myself laugh. I only feel pain thinking about him. All the things I could have done, but didn't do.

"You look like a mess." She sits on my bed.

"I just lost my best friend."

"I lost my friend too."

"It sucks."

"Yeah, it does."

We sit in silence.

"You know he'd be upset if we both spent the rest of our lives how we are?"

"I know! I… I'm going to face it again. Someday. But… Not now."

"Okay." She curls up next to me and puts her head on my shoulder.

"I'm tired of dealing with all of this alone," she finally says.

"Yeah. Me too."

"I'm going to miss him so much." She sniffles. I hand her a tissue.

"Yeah. Me too."

"You really think we're going to be able to keep going?"

"Put one foot in front of the other. We'll find a way. Just like anyone else in this District that lost their loved ones to the Games."

She sobs slightly into my shoulder. "I still have one more year," she sobs quietly. "How am I supposed to face it!? What if it's me?!"

"It won't be."

"That's what we said this year!" she sobs loudly.

"Sh… I know. But let's not manage that until we get there. Let's do something else."

"Like what?"

"Sleep? I haven't done it in days."

She sniffles and glances at me. "Oh… Okay."

"We'll be there. So if the other has nightmares…"

"We can save them."

She lays down and closes her eyes. For the first time in weeks, I close mine, and sleep comes easily.

~.~.

* * *

District 12

* * *

-Robyn Ponderosa, 14- Sister of Wren-

Jay doesn't get it.

Jay doesn't get that he lost a sister. He's too busy laughing as that Merchant girl runs her fingers up his arms. He doesn't seem to understand that while he was flirting, his sister was killed.

He doesn't even come after me when I run away. I run up to my room, the room I shared with my sister, and jump under my covers. I can't believe it happened so fast, and I can't believe I'm alone in my suffering. Dad's working a shift. Mom was making lunch. I hide under my covers and sob. Maybe Jay doesn't care, but I do. Maybe they're all too busy to notice, but I'm not.

Ma rushes up to my room quickly. She must have finally been let in on the fact that Wren is dead and no matter what nothing will change that. She went straight into the bloodbath with that girl from 4. That dense flirt that had no place telling Wren what to do. But Wren was so quiet and polite that she went along with it. I know Wren was smart enough to know that the bloodbath isn't a good idea.

"Oh, Robyn." Ma looks pretty shaken, but her eyes are tearless. She sits on my bed and pulls me into a tight hug. "You're going to be okay."

"How can you say that?!" I shout at her. "If Wren was reaped and killed what's saving me from the same fate!?" I hiccup and sob.

"Sh… Robyn-"

"You don't understand! You don't understand because you're safe from them! You don't get it! I'm not safe, I'm not even close to safe!"

"Each year you get older, your likelihood of winning-"

"She was 17! Wouldn't that have made her likelihood of winning really high!?"

"Robyn, _please_ , don't make this difficult."

I glare at her. "Don't make this _difficult_!? I lost a sister and you're telling me not to make it difficult!? How can you look your youngest daughter in the eyes and say something like that?!"

"Robyn-"

"Don't Robyn me! When you say my name like that I just know that you're going to try and say something that will make me feel pathetic for crying, and I don't want to hear it, alright!?"

My mother's eyes fill with tears. Maybe I hurt her feelings, but I'm too angry to apologize now. I sob into my hands, not letting anything console me.

Nobody understands the kind of hell that is on the road ahead. Trying to figure out how to go on without my older sister. They'll just keep on laughing at me.

"I'm sorry," my mother says, a tear rolling down her cheek. "You have to understand that this is going to be a hard road for all of us."

She hangs her head, and I really feel bad.

When she wraps her arms around me, I hug her back.

I may be lost and hopeless, and totally unsure of where to turn, but at least I have my family there to help me find my way.

.

-Albus Aslan, 12- Brother of Leo-

Nightmares have become a common occurrence in the Aslan household.

It's really just a question of which child will wake up screaming.

I'm lucky to have a dreamless sleep that night. At least I get some rest. Unfortunately, that's ended by a scream coming from Rebecca's room. I rub my eyes sleepily. I wonder if Dereck will tend to her, of if I should. Either way, I know I won't be able to sleep until I know for sure that the 6-year-old has been tended to, so I tiredly shuffle over to her room. Dereck has done this for me, so I figure that I owe it to both him and to my poor sister.

"H-He was being tortured!" she shouts hysterically to a listening Dereck. "He was being tortured and bleeding and yelling!"

Why is it mandatory to view the horrors of the Games? Why must 6-year-olds realize that their brothers, sisters, are dying? Why can't they just be left alone? Why must we all grow up so fast.

"Get her a glass of water," I tell Dereck. "I'll stay up with her."

He looks exhausted. I know he probably just wants to go back to bed. He gets up to go to the kitchen, and I sit down next to my little sister.

It seems like years ago that I was the one that was afraid with Leo comforting me. I long for those days, back when I was a child. I might have been naïve, but at least I wasn't broken.

Every day, I try to be more like my oldest brother. Every day I try to continue the legacy Leo left when he died. Too early, he died. I know that I could suffer the same fate, or Dereck, or even little Rebecca, someday when she's of age. Most of my nightmares involve one or more of us being reaped and sent away. As much as I try to act like Leo, I'm nothing like him. I couldn't be as strong or as brave as my brother. I wouldn't last a second in the Games.

I know I shouldn't hate that girl from 5, but I do. He gave his _life_ for her. I have no idea why, but I know that he wouldn't regret what he did. That's the kind of person he was. He would have done it all over again. That doesn't make me resent her any less. Why did she get to live? She didn't even do anything after he gave his life for her! She just hid!

Rebecca clutches my shirt and sobs into my chest, and I realize that I have more important things to deal with right in this moment. I have to be there for her, just like Leo was for me. I remember him and try to figure out what he would do if he were here.

I don't say anything to her. I just hold her to my chest. Dereck hands her a glass of water and says good night. Once she finishes her drink, I lay with her. She curls up against me and soon she's sleeping again.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and feeling the warmth of the little girl against me.

When sleep comes, black and dreamless, I let it take me.

 _ **A/N: This is gonna be quick. I have… Three hours and twenty minutes to whip up an epilogue chapter. Cool. Alright. See you then.**_

 _ **CQ: Same as last chapter. Who stood out or how did I do with your tribute's epilogue?**_

 _ **Alright, see you soon.**_


	44. The Victor of the 84th Hunger Games

_**A/N: Sorry this is late, but trigger warning for gore/suffocation and a panic attack in the Spring section. Stay safe!**_

* * *

-Kendal Beck, Victor of the 84th Annual Hunger Games-

* * *

 _It's hard… Letting go._

 _I'm finally at peace, but it feels wrong._

 _Slow, I'm getting up._

 _My hands and feet are weaker than before._

* * *

-The Return Home- Three days after the end of the Games-

I stare out the window as the world whizzes by.

We're on our way home.

Home, with my friends and family, where I belong. I can't help but feel like a stranger. District 7 doesn't only have Agata, Aunt Linnette, my parents, it also has Andy. I'm sure she's suffering. It's barely been 72 hours and I'm already heading home.

I feel nervous. Hollow. A bit numb. All I know is that I'm dreading going back. Who knows if my loved ones will even want to see me? I'm not the same person they said goodbye to. I start to quiver a little bit as visions of the hell I've lived through start to come back.

I snap out of it when I feel a light touch on my back, and Cobra snaps me out of it.

"Aren't you excited to get back there?" they ask.

I swallow hard. "No. I don't want to."

"It's your home. You've brought them a lot of pride."

"Riella would have brought them more."

"Nonsense." Their cat-like eyes are lit up with excitement for me that I just can't seem to mimic. I just feel waves of anxiety, pushing at my throat. "As soon as your Victory Tour is over six months from now, I'm being promoted."

"Wait, really?"

They hold up a piece of paper confirming it and beam at me.

"Congratulations!" I give my escort a hug. I really am happy for them.

"I wouldn't have had the courage to get out without your help," they say quietly. "Thank you. That's something nobody else could have done. Nobody else but you."

"Well, I had the best mentor behind me."

"Oh, stop it." They're still smiling. They're here to remind me that there's a reason I won. True, I don't feel ready to go home. I'm not sure if they'll accept me for who I am now. But I have to be honest with them. I have to be honest with the world.

The train starts to slow down and Cobra claps their hands. "Oh, yes, we're here!"

I swallow a lump in my throat. I'm pretty sure nobody would be excited if I ran off the stage sobbing. I have to be strong. The doors open and my only thought is, _I don't want to go out there._

"District 7, your Victor of the 84th Hunger Games… Kendal Beck!"

I swallow hard and look behind me. Cobra gives me a nod. "I'll see you soon."

I nod a little bit and take a step out on the stage.

The applause practically sends me backwards. I have no idea why they're clapping. I immediately start looking for my family. It's not hard to find Agata, she's already shoving people out of her way on her way to the very front. I can hear her screams above everyone else's. Soon, I can't take it, I dash down the stairs and run to the center of the stage, where she launches into a flying tackle hug and sends us to the ground.

She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't have to. She's crying a little bit, clutching me tightly.

"I missed you," she says through tears. "I'm never letting go again."

I laugh a little bit and bury my face in her neck. We stay like that for a while, before she finally reluctantly lets me go and helps me up. I run straight to Aunt Linnette, who picks me up and spins me around, laughing. "I knew you could do it!" she says happily. "I told you, didn't I!?"

"You did," I say, barely trying to hold back my tears. She kisses my temple and sends me off to my parents. I hug both of them at once, making a huddle.

"We're so proud of you," my father says. I can't even respond by now, I'm crying too hard. My mother cries with me, sympathy tears, tears of joy, who knows? I'm so glad to be back with them. The District starts a banquet, the first of the food that's going to be given to them.

Agata stays tight by my side all meal long. She doesn't let go of my hand the entire time, as people come up to congratulate and thank me. Soon, some of the District's musicians start to play, and everyone is dancing and laughing together. It's truly amazing. Agata keeps making comments about the pretty girls, but doesn't want to talk to them even when I offer to be a wingman for her. Instead, she takes me by the hands and drags me out to dance with her to the music. I allow myself to have some laughter, to smile and enjoy being with her.

After all, I won to be back here. Things almost feel normal.

Almost.

All afternoon people are coming up to talk to me. A group of District 7 Victors welcome me to their ranks. Johanna slaps me on the back and tells me that maybe I'm not such a softie after all. Adler and Heather are nowhere to be seen, but that's how I want it. Maybe I'll talk to them after they learn some basic decency.

One particular moment is when a little child in a dress comes bounding over. They have short brown hair and olive skin, and big, dark green eyes.

"You're Kendal Beck!"

"That's me. This is my friend Agata. What's your name?"

"I'm Joss! Gilchrist." They hold out a plate and a pen to me. "Can you sign this pretty please!?"

I smile a bit. "Yeah, of course." I take the pen and exchange a look with Agata. "You'll have to excuse my horrible autograph. I've never… Even dreamt of signing anything before."

"That's okay!"

I sign the plate and hand it back to them. "I love your dress."

"Thanks! My Mama bought it for me! A lot of people say that boys shouldn't wear dresses, but Mama let me have one." He spins around cheerfully.

"Joss!" A girl that looks closer to our age approaches.

"Sorry about him-"

"It's really no problem." I smile. "After all, I won to inspire people."

"Thanks for your time, though. He's just-"

"What's your name?"

There's a pause. "Jordan."

"It's nice to meet you Jordan." I shake her hand. "This is my best friend Agata."

They exchange greetings.

"No worries about the whole time thing. I've got plenty of it, after all."

"Oh… Well-"

"Have you tried the food yet? It's _amazing_."

"We were just going to meet our older brother Bryson there now. He wouldn't want to miss Joss's new-food faces."

"It was nice talking to you! Enjoy that now!"

"Thank you so much!" Joss says, eyes still a bit wide.

I ruffle his hair. "If anyone ever tries to tell you that boys don't wear dresses, tell them a Victor said that of course they do. And if anyone tries to tell you who you are, tell them that you get to decide that for yourself."

"Thank you so much!" He rushes off to find her brother, and Jordan gives us one last "Thanks again" before dashing off after him.

This is why I won.

And this is only the beginning of what I want to do.

~.~.

-The Victory Tour- Six months after the Games-

"Just one more District before we arrive at the Capitol!" Cobra says happily.

They've been scrutinizing my stylists, trying to make sure everything was right. People have been saying that they've never seen Cobra invest so much into a tribute, but what can I say? Kindness is rewarded with kindness. If there's anything I've learned, it's that.

They work hard to make me look well-rested. Watching it was just as bad as I thought it would be. But, the outside was pretty much the same as it had been, just with a new power-hungry bastard on top of the pyramid. Nothing like the bloodshed I expected to face. Things have been surprisingly calm. I haven't seen Andy at all since getting back home. I decided to wait to seek her out, give her some time to heal. I think that's what all of us need. Time.

The speech is just as hard to make as I expected. Luckily, the worst has already passed. I take the flowers from a smiling little girl and try to ignore the fact that they think I'm some kind of hero. They romanticize me for all the wrong reasons.

Things don't get really interesting until after it's over, though. The District applauds, and I tear my eyes away from Callum's grandfather as I exit the stage.

"You have to let him come with me," someone was saying. I quickly approach, not ready to be pawned off without having a say in it.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh yes! See?" She grabs me by the ear.

"Ow! Hey!"

"Release him!"

"Allow me to clarify. Y'know that chocolate company that has labels all over the District? Yeah, that's my father. Let me take him."

"Excuse me, but I believe I get a say here-"

"I'm Inverness Stowers. As in, the Stowers."

Stowers. Oh God, she looks just like him. I had forgotten about that. Well as much as someone like me can forget something, that is. I've been so overloaded lately that I haven't had time to think about silly stuff like that.

They clear out of her way.

"Have him back in exactly ten minutes," Cobra says, looking at me protectively.

"Okay, but that means we're gonna have to run!" She drags me forward, and I stumble after her.

"So, um, I-"

"Shut up and keep up! We have ten minutes to find Gravity!" She keeps going and I dash after her, a small grin breaking across my face. It's like a game. I haven't played a game in months.

Inverness kicks the door of a large house open and runs in. I follow her, trying not to laugh. Is this a bit ridiculous? More than a bit. But I haven't been allowed to run free in so long.

"Gravity!" Inverness shouts.

I enter the living room and stop short. He's there, on the couch. He's nothing but a head popping out of a pile of blankets.

It's quite a surreal moment. It must be weird to have a total stranger walk in on you when you look so… Adorable.

"...Hello." I finally speak words.

"Hello…"

"Hey, you found him! Good work!" Inverness appears again. "Don't underestimate your twin, Gravity. I'm capable of amazing things." She disappears.

"You wanted to volunteer, didn't you?"

"Yeah. And I didn't." He scowls and hides in his blankets.

"I'm glad you didn't."

He looks up at me. "And why's that?"

"Because you're awfully cute."

His whole face goes red and he hides under the blanket again, causing me to laugh. I bet I'm pretty red too. Flirting has never really been a strong point.

"You're cuter than me. I can't do anything. Can't even volunteer without being shown up."

"I'm sure volunteering wasn't the only thing you could do."

"What the hell else is there!? I'm fucking stupid, I'm not smart enough to be a businessman."

"You don't have to be a businessman."

"Success. Money, wealth, success. That's what'll make my parents proud."

"I'm sure that's not true." I lightly touch his shoulder.

"I'm sure it is. I'm sure you know nothing about me."

"Well I'm not going to be able to learn much in the ten minutes I have, but maybe you could give me a call and we could talk some more?"

There's a long silence.

"You're serious?"

"Sure. You struck my interest. I'd like to get to know you. Maybe we could schedule lunch sometime. Y'know, once all this hype has died down."

He takes a piece of paper off out of his notebook and writes ten digits on it. He hands it to me without a word.

"You shouldn't waste your time on me."

"It's not a waste. You have a whole future ahead of you. You just can't see that yet."

"Sure."

"We have to get you back!" Inverness says quickly. "I'll be killed if I don't have you back just in time."

"You definitely will be," I say, laughing a bit. "Cobra's fierce when it comes to punctuality."

"C'mon!"

"Call me," I say to Gravity, before I turn around and follow Inverness as she runs back to the Square.

~.~.

-Autumn, One year after the Games-

"See this one? It's oak. _Oak_ is the common name for many acorn-producing trees and shrubs that are members of the beech, family. They're members of the genus _Quercus_. Did you know that that word _Quercus_ was taken from a word of a different language that meant, 'fine tree?'"

"How do you know so much?" When I turn around, Gravity isn't behind me anymore. He's laying on the ground, staring up at the beautiful blue autumn sky. He looks great in that peacoat and the navy and white striped scarf. He always says I'm adorable all bundled up, but I don't think he's looked into a working mirror when he's all dressed up for autumn.

Since he became the mayor of District 1, we've started splitting our time in half. Half of the time we live in 1, the other half in 7. Maybe it's not ideal, but I need to be with him. In a world of craziness and nightmares, he's the only thing that remains stable. I know that he's always going to be there for me.

"My Mom read me a _lot_ of books about trees when I was a kid. She wasn't around much, too busy with her work preserving 7's woods, and that was her way to explain why it was important that she was gone."

"So you've said."

"You keep asking. Now are you going to get up or just lay there?"

"Mmph."

I laugh a little bit. Honestly, my boyfriend is such a puppy sometimes. I lay down next to him and lay my head on his chest. He wraps his arms around me and makes a satisfied noise.

"Babe, you know that we can't nap here on the forest floor, don't you?"

"Mmph."

"I'm serious."

"Hi Serious. I'm Gravity."

I flick him. "Shut up." But I laugh, a rarity nowadays.

"Am I boring you with all my fun facts about trees?"

"I could listen to you talk for centuries."

When I'm talking, it's easier to avoid the nightmares. Something I learned in the Arena that still holds true today. We lay in silence for a while. When I close my eyes, I can hear his heart beating. It's steady and true, his breathing calm and gentle. It's stability. It's peace. It's the only kind of silence I can stand nowadays, though not for too long.

"I keep thinking I see Akiro."

"What happened to him wasn't your fault."

"I was his _mentor_."

"You couldn't have saved him."

"I could've done _something_."

"You couldn't have."

"He was so close, Gravity!"

"He fought until the very end. No matter what you sent him, he couldn't have overcome those mutts."

"Then why does it feel like it's my fault?"

"Because everyone needs someone to blame. You keep choosing yourself."

"Because it's my fault that they're dead!"

"It's not."

"Try telling that to Andy."

"You didn't have a choice." He brushes the bangs across my forehead. I bury my face in his chest, hiding in sadness and shame.

"You deserve better than me."

"I couldn't have found anyone better."

I shake my head into his chest. He should find someone better, he deserves someone much better.

"It's true." He strokes my hair softly, and at his touch I feel calm. We both know I'm not going to believe it.

I just close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat. That's what I need right now. The air is crisp, but the sunlight is warm. Gravity keeps breathing, his heart keeps beating. Slow and steady and calm.

My stability.

My peace.

~.~.

* * *

 _A thousand silhouettes,_

 _Dancing on my chest;_

 _No matter where I sleep,_

 _You are haunting me_

* * *

-Spring, One Year After the Games-

 _I'm surrounded by darkness._

 _In the night, I hear the cries of a baby, the sound of gunshots overpowering, the screams of the fallen ringing in my ears. Raoul's song, Wren cooing at the birds, Serafina Anya dancing around, Karima chasing the bunny, Amari's insults, Edgard's screams… They play over and over again, louder and louder, closing in. The deceased tributes emerge from the darkness, all of them dripping blood, singed, destroyed._

" _Pull it!"_

 _There's a rope in my hands._

" _Pull it!" I don't know where the shout is coming from. All I know is that I have to survive. A thousand voices tell me to pull, but I'm trying to stop myself. I don't want to pull that rope. I don't know what will happen, but I don't want to pull it._

 _Soon, though, I can't fight it anymore. My body acts on its own, all I can do is stand by and watch as I pull down on the rope that's tied around Riella's neck, lifting her off the ground. She chokes and coughs, begs as her face turns blue for mercy, for a quick death, but I can't put her out of her misery. I have to keep pulling, tighter and tighter, until the skin of her neck breaks and dark, thick blood drips out as she splutters and gasps for air._

 _The laughter of the others rings in my ears, as the shouts telling me to pull the rope become louder and louder. I try to stop myself from pulling it, trying to end her quickly or even save her life, but I can't do anything to stop myself from drawing out her agony._

" _Anything to survive, right Kendal?"_

 _In a flash of darkness, the scene changes. Same rope. Same urge to pull it._

 _Gravity is choking. I can't stop myself from doing it._

" _You have to get HOME! Pull the rope!" I can't stop myself. I pull the rope, I pull it hard, I pull until Gravity is coughing and wheezing and hacking, the wet sounds of him choking as the rope closes off air._

" _You have to be a hero, you have to get home, pull the rope!" I am a slave to myself, my body reacting without my permission. I keep pulling._

 _Just one more._

 _Just one more to survive._

 _One more to get home._

I jolt awake and the first thing I see in the dim light of a nightlight are Gravity's eyes, wide and full of concern.

"Kendal?"

I scramble backwards, away from him.

I can't look him in the eyes. I'm going to hurt him, I'm going to kill him, he needs to get away from me, he needs to run away and never come back!

"Are you alright?"

I gasp for air, hiccupping with sobs and quivering as I wipe sweat off of my forehead. "G-Go," I gasp out.

"Breathe with me," he says gently, "Kendal, can you breathe with me?"

"No!" I shout. "I'm going to hurt you!"

"No you're not. Breathe in, see? Breathe in, I'll count to five. Kendal."

"You don't understand what I've done!" I sob into my hands. Everything is my fault. The nightmares are never going to go away. I will always have blood on my hands, I will always be a murderer, I'm going to hurt him, I'm going to kill him and he's going to trust me the whole way through! He moves in closer but I inch back, off of the bed.

"Kendal, you're going to pass out."

"Leave while you can!"

"I'm not going to leave you."

"All I do is hurt people! All I do is kill!" Tears roll down my cheeks and mix with sweat.

"Breathe, alright? You're going to be okay."

Beamer gets up from where he had been sleeping next to the bed and sits next to me. I try to take control of my breathing, clutching the dog tightly. Beamer sits still as I bury my face in his back and try to get ahold of myself.

"I'll be right back, okay?"

I don't respond. Gravity gets up to leave and I stay with Beamer, who licks some of the tears off of my face. This one is a work in progress of Gravity's. Of course the most patient, kind man in all of Panem would be successful training service dogs. He said it'd help me out, and I wasn't sure at first but now I can't imagine what it would be like without Beamer here. He was a rescue, their best guess is that he has Cocker Spaniel and German Shepherd in him. He only has three legs and one eye, but he's the sweetest dog and just what I need. Next year he'll probably be well-trained enough to take to the Capitol with me. Knowing Gravity, it'll barely take a month to get him in ship shape.

I see his silhouette in the door and take a breath.

"Should I turn on a light?"

"Please." My voice is weak when it comes out and I still can't stop shaking. Gravity comes over and offers a hand down to me, which I take.

"Want to talk about it?"

I shake my head.

"You're alright now. I'm here for you. C'mon, let's go to the living room. I made you some hot chocolate."

I nod, still shaking, as he wraps a blanket around my shoulders and helps me down to his little kitchen. Beamer follows, staying at my ankles protectively. When I catch a glimpse at a clock, I notice that's 2:30 in the morning.

"I'm sorry for waking you, Babe-"

"Mm-mm. You're okay."

The fireplace is lit, the radio playing softly in the background. I slump down on the couch and take a mug he hands me with shaking hands. I drink slowly, letting the warmth of it calm me down. Beamer curls up on his favorite chair and goes back to sleep.

"I'm not really okay."

"You're not in danger. I've got you."

"What if I hurt you?"

"You won't."

"What if?"

"We'll deal with if it happens."

"Gravity-"

"I love you, Kendal." He leans over to gently kiss my forehead.

"I love you too," I say quietly. "So much." I rest my head on his shoulder. We sit like that for a while, nothing but the quiet songs of the radio between us.

"You know, when you take me to the Capitol they're going to expect us to dance together," he says quietly.

"Oh. Yeah. I can fake it, usually. But… I've… Never slow-danced before."

"I haven't either. Not for real."

I glance at him as he gets up to take the mugs to the kitchen. When he comes back, he smiles a bit at me.

"Want to go back to sleep?"

I shake my head a bit. "Not yet."

"Then… Can I have this dance?" He holds a hand down to me.

"A…Are you serious? It's 2:45 in the morning, you should go to bed."

"And miss out on an opportunity like this? No way." He reaches over to turn up the radio. "Unless you don't want to…?"

I take his hand. "I'd love to."

I stand up slowly, and wrap my arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close. I bury my face in his chest and take in his scent as I listen to the music and sway with him.

 _Tears stream,_

 _Down your face,_

 _When you lose something you cannot replace,_

 _Tears stream,_

 _Down your face,_

 _And I…_

 _Tears stream,_

 _Down your face,_

 _I promise I will learn from my mistakes._

 _Tears stream down your face,_

 _And I…_

 _Lights will guide you home,_

 _And ignite your bones,_

 _And I will try to fix you._

"I love you," he says quietly.

"I love you too."

"I want to marry you."

"Wh-What?" I pull off of him and stare up into his eyes. " _What_?!"

"I-I'm sorry… I was going to ask properly, I-"

"You're… Serious? You want to marry me?"

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I asked your parents and your Aunt and they gave blessings. I know that we're young. I know that we haven't been dating for all that long. But I also know that I can't see myself spending my life with anyone else. But… It can wait, if you're not ready. I'm not going anywhere."

"No, it's… I want to marry you, Gravity! I don't want to be betrothed to anyone else ever." I feel a beam spread across my face, and he gives me gentle kiss.

"I'll ask you again when it's not 3 in the morning."

"Sorry about that," I say, deflating again. "Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with someone like me? I… I can't escape my Games, Gravity. I don't think I'll ever be okay. You deserve to live without me holding you back."

"You don't hold me back. You make me the best version of Gravity there is. It's never a bother. I live to care for you-"

"But there are so many better things you could live for!"

"There are things I can do, sure. But there's nobody else I'd rather devote myself to."

I don't retort. Instead my shoulders just go up and down in a weak shrug.

"I'll stay here until you're ready to go back to bed."

"I'm ready."

As soon as we start walking back to the bedroom, Beamer is following. Gravity picks him up to help out with the stairs, and when we get back to the room, he turns on the nightlight that projects stars onto the ceiling. Gravity climbs into bed and I curl up beside him. I rest my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

In the Arena, there were no stars. I find calming peace, looking up at the familiar projection on the ceiling. Gravity's strong arms are wrapped around me, and he breathes peacefully. He's asleep as soon as he closes his eyes. I turn my head to kiss between his eyes gently. I don't know what I did to deserve him.

* * *

 _I'm already there,  
I'm already there,  
Wherever there is you,  
I will be there too._

* * *

I lay awake looking at the stars.

I may never be able to escape the horrors of the Games. I don't think I'll ever heal fully. Nothing I do will completely eliminate the guilt, the memories, the silhouettes. No matter where I go they'll haunt me.

The guilt will always be there. The remnants of the hell I was put through. I will always remember.

But I have peace.

I have stability. I have a constant in this crazy world. No matter what he'll be here. No matter what he validates me, and loves me, and never lets me go. I'd be the luckiest person alive to marry him.

No matter what the memories bring, no matter what ghosts of the past come up, I know that I'll make it. It doesn't end the pain. I will never be healed. But as long as my Aunt, and Agata, and my parents, and Gravity are by my side, I can do anything.

I try to think of the silhouettes as a good thing. They're around to remind me how much I have at stake. They're here to tell me that I can't give up now. They're here to make sure I'm the best Victor I can be, the best role model I can be, the best son and nephew and friend and fiancé I can be. When I think of them like that, I can sleep at night. It wouldn't be fair to give up now.

I watch the stars until I feel a deep, dreamless sleep wash over me. I feel Gravity breathing calmly and feel safe. I'm going to be alright. I'm going to be the best Victor I can be.

I inhale his scent with a deep breath, and close my eyes peacefully.

~.~.

 _ **A/N: Done with an hour and seven minutes to spare!**_

 _ **Here's a big thank you to Jess, AKA Wetstar, for Kendal. Honestly, I wanted him to be Victor from the first time I wrote with him. He's such a sweetheart, and the way you gave his friends and family such life is always amazing. I hope I didn't overshadow them at all on the epilogue. I hope that you enjoyed seeing Kendal and what I did with him, and I hope that you look forward to seeing him make a cameo guest-starring role in whatever stories come next.**_

 _ **So, this is the end. Well, not REALLY the end. After all, I still have a lot of Afterlife!AUs to write and four Districts of chibis to draw still, but of the story this is indeed the end. I can't believe it. Thank you, so much, to every single person that reviewed. Almost 500 reviews on one story!? Honestly so amazing to me. I feel so incredibly blessed to have such loyal readers and friends. I never thought I would have been capable of something this intense and epic. I've learned some important lessons that I will definitely transfer to my next SYOT so that it'll be even better! Honestly, this has been such a (haha, here we go) roller coaster. Overall, though, I couldn't have asked for a better first full SYOT experience. I have fifty-nine whole minutes to be sappy, I could do this all the rest of the day. But, I'll try to keep it short. I appreciate all yinz so much and I'm so glad you joined me for the ride.**_

 _ **Although I never got to really close up the Capitol side of things… But if you want to know their fates the prologue of 96 kind of shows them. Or you can just PM me. If you care. Or maybe I'll mention it in a Danzón prologue. Sorry about that.**_

 _ **OKAY SO I CAN'T JUST FINISH A STORY WITHOUT SCREAMING A LITTLE BIT. I JUST NEVER THOUGHT SOMETHING I WROTE COULD HAVE THIS MANY REVIEWS AND THIS MANY COMPLIMENTS AND I DIDN'T THINK THAT JUST BY WRITING I COULD MEET SO MANY AMAZING NEW PEOPLE AND SEE SO MANY AMAZING AND DIFFERENT POINTS OF VIEW... I JUST... AGH IT'S SO AMAZING AND I FEEL SO BLESSED TO HAVE MADE YOU ALL FEEL THINGS WITH MY WRITING AND GIVING ME COMMENTS AND SHARING THINGS ABOUT YOURSELVES IN THE REVIEWS AND I REALLY HOPE YOU ALL STICK AROUND BECAUSE I'M SO GLAD TO HAVE MET YOU AND TALKED TO YOU AND THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING.**_

 _ **Phew. Got all THAT sappy shit out.**_

 _ **My last Chapter Question to you is this: What was your favorite part of the story? I don't know if I could pick one, honestly. So if you can't either, then… Top 3. And why? I know, this is a long question. Whatever.**_

 _ **Thank you to each and every submitter, each and every reader, and each and every reviewer. It means the world and I honestly hope that you submit another lovely tribute to my next project, Danzón: The 125**_ _ **th**_ _ **Hunger Games! The form will probably be up by Tuesday or Wednesday, and the first prologue will probably be up by the end of the week!  
**_


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